A Matter of Perspective
by Sensoo
Summary: Even after finding Sidonis, not everything is right between Shepard and Garrus. Sometimes talking isn't enough to clear the air.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: It's been ages since I wrote fanfiction so this has been kind of fun. Like masturbation really, it feels good while you're doing it, but afterwards you just feel ashamed. =P I've had several Fem!Shep/Garrus stories floating around my head and just needed to make them go away. I'm Rinter_Degan on the bioware social network and sometimes I'm actually on it!

This is spoiler-rific! Seriously though, if you're on for ME2 fanfic, you should have already beaten the game by now.

It bothered me a little how Garrus just seemed to go along with everything rather than really make serious space!batman advances on your Fem!Shep. And while some people found the final scene cute and sweet (well, it was), I kind of wanted more...I don't know what I wanted, but I think I wanted less awkwardness. Garrus is badass. He deserved better. (And by he, I mean me, the shameless fan).

Also, that Sidonis thing blew over way too quickly.

So here's yet another Paragon!Shepard/Garrus story.

Disclaimer: Bioware owns Mass Effect, etc. etc. I'm just playing in their sandbox.

* * *

"I don't want to talk about it and I have nothing to say to you." The words came with unwavering certainty and heart wrenching finality. Climbing into the shuttle, Garrus kept his gaze somewhere past her head.

"Garrus…" Shepard felt her throat tighten at the hostility in his tone.

"Not now, Shepard. Or I'll end up doing something we'll both regret," the turian snarled through a clenched jaw and the look he gave her sent chills down her spine. For a moment, she was ashamed to admit, she saw Saren through the blue markings, not her comrade. There was still death in his eyes and he flexed his talons, glowering.

Thane stiffened beside her, and in the corner of her vision Shepard saw his hand casually brush against his gun. She gave a slight head shake and the drell bowed his head, looking almost ashamed. Garrus wasn't Saren. All turians did not look alike.

She didn't feel like reaching out and comforting Thane, but she did so anyway, patting his shoulder as she sat down. Drawing her pistol, she began to fiddle with its calibrations, more out of nervous habit than necessity. The sights were off by a tenth of a degree or so. She'd sighted it in at 50 yards, but it pulled a smidgen to the left- not that its range made it necessary to be much more accurate. Shepard tried to ignore the fact that she might have damaged her friendship with Garrus beyond repair. And had it even been worth it?

For what Sidonis did, Shepard would have killed him ten times over. Losing Ash was hard enough. The geth, the krogan, even the Reaper had all been dedicated to Gunnery Sergeant Williams. Losing Kaidan, Wrex, Garrus… Her mind stopped before she could continue the list. She would have taken the darker parth. She would have slaughtered the bastard responsible, slowly. War hero or not, she'd learned things as an N7, things that did not need to be spoken of. Her own hypocrisy curdled her stomach.  
Half an hour ago, she had been certain letting him kill Sidonis would be a grave mistake. She'd been so caught up with preventing it that she hadn't really thought about the repercussions. Garrus couldn't kill Sidonis; if he gave in to that obsession he wouldn't be Garrus any more. Shepard couldn't let him do it. It wouldn't be right. He'd understand – he understood why she did what she did with Dr. Saleon, right?

But in the end, Saleon died and Sidonis didn't. Saleon was pride. Sidonis was personal.

Her reasoning echoed hollow now. In the light of his reaction – Garrus had never once treated her with such _rage_ – Shepard began to question her own judgment. She tried to do the right thing, tried to keep the body count to a minimum. Was that really the right thing though? She trusted Garrus's judgment – even if he was prone to bouts of brash enthusiasm, he still listened to reason.

Maybe this time she'd been wrong.

"Are you sure that's how your pistol should be sighted, _siha_?" Thane's raspy voice broke through her reverie and Shepard looked down to find the settings completely off. Smooth.

"…Just trying something new," Shepard managed a lopsided smile and Thane hesitantly rested a hand on her elbow.

"I can take a look at that if you want," he murmured, his breath suddenly warm on the side of her face.

From Garrus's corner came a low rumble, a cross between a growl and hiss, but he didn't look at either one of them.

"It's fine, Thane." Shepard didn't move his hand, grateful for the comfort. "What kind of soldier would I be if I didn't know how to maintain my own weapons?"

Thane only gazed at her with inky dark eyes.

They spent the rest of the shuttle ride in uneasy silence.

* * *

"Garrus seems…troubled," Kelly informed Shepard she stared blankly at her private terminal. "And you do too, if you don't mind me saying so."

"…Just tired, Kelly." Shepard managed to keep her tone friendly. Telling Kelly it was none of her goddamned business wouldn't really help matters. And the yeoman was right; Garrus had been short with everyone lately, rasher in combat, and taking his meals alone in the main battery instead of in the mess hall. She'd been somewhat resigned to leaving him be. What would she say to him? "I'm sorry I let the guy who got all your friends killed walk away. Better luck next time?" They didn't exactly make cards for this kind of occasion.

"Maybe you should speak with him, Commander. After all you've been through together, you know he respects you."

After what happened with Sidonis? Not bloody likely. He wouldn't walk away from this mission, it was too important. But her? Kaidan and Liara didn't seem to have any problem doing so. Losing Garrus too was something she didn't want to contemplate, especially since it might already be too late.

"I think he needs some time to get his head on straight," Shepard said. It was a feint, and if Kelly thought so, she was too polite to say it. The perky redhead gave her a pained smile.

"If you say so, ma'am."

Shepard resisted the urge to beat her own head against the terminal.

* * *

"You know, Shepard. Garrus might need to go see Mordin."

"Why is that, Joker?"

"Someone shoved that stick he had right back up his ass. I think he's needing a surgical extraction and Chakwas probably doesn't know all that much about turian anatomy."

"Joker…" Her voice dropped fifty degrees and an octave.

"And I'll just shut up and drive now, ma'am. Yeesh."

* * *

"Shepard, I like what you've done with the turian."

Shepard buried her face in her hands, mostly to keep them from punching the grinning krogan in his shark-toothed face.

"He's so much more fun now. I still hate turians, but this one, he knows how to have a good time. You're a great battlemaster, Shepard. I can't wait to see what you do with the fishman…" He paused thoughtfully. "But if he's a lost cause, can I eat him?"

"No, Grunt," she exhaled slowly, counting to ten. "No, you may not."

* * *

"Ah, glad you came by. Needed to talk with you. Certain crew members experiencing high agitation. Not naming names: patient-physician confidentiality very important. Cause of distress partially situational, but not entirely. Part of it physiological – turians prone to hormonal imbalances. Would suggest a change in diet. Maybe some extended shore leave. Research would suggest that certain crew members haven't had their necessary allotment of non-combat oriented stress reducing activities."

"What exactly are you suggesting? Getting him…them drunk?" Shepard sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger.

"Maybe. Unlike Salarians, other shipmate species have mating drive. Can cause irritability, mood swings, and general unpleasantness. Very bad for morale."

Shepard winced. "Thanks Mordin, I'll take that into consideration."

Because hiring a female turian hooker would solve all their problems. Maybe an asari if Garrus was feeling adventurous.

"Any time, Shepard," Mordin called as she trudged out of the tech lab wondering if this was some ass-backward Salarian attempt at humor.

* * *

"Shepard, you need to talk to Garrus," Tali said flatly the next time she made her rounds to engineering. "It's been over a week." The Citadel was long behind them – they were docked at Ilium for supplies.

Donnelly and Daniels fell uncharacteristically silent, making no attempts to hide their eavesdropping.

"I was just about to ask you if you would do the honors…" Shepard leaned against the console. Of all the crew members, Tali was the one she could speak most freely with. Once upon a turian had that dubious honor but…"You weren't there and he's known you almost as long as he's known me."

"Shepard…" Tali's tone held more than a smidgen of disapproval.

"Damn. I could get on my knees and beg if that's what it will take." Shepard's voice held a slightly desperate plea.

"You need to talk to him. He might like me, but he respects you."

Shepard sighed, not bothering to correct the tense of the verb. "I'm not sure what to say, Tali. The more I think about it, the more I'm certain if our roles were reversed, I would have dragged Sidonis somewhere secluded and finished him off with a welding torch and a screwdriver. Picturing losing you, Wrex, Garrus…" She didn't mention Kaidan. Not any more. In fact, she'd almost forgotten the whole Horizon-causes-insomnia issue. Now her insomnia revolved around her lack of contact with Garrus.

"I'm glad we mean that much to you." Tali's three-fingered hand rested hesitantly on Shepard's arm. "But you should still talk to him. I can't pass that judgment for you. It's between you and Garrus. But the least you can do is talk to him about it. He'll listen to you. I know he will."

"That's what I thought about Kaidan." It slipped out by accident, and Shepard pursed her lips, glaring down at the floor - seeing through it, in fact, right into space and eternity and straight to Horizon.

"Garrus isn't Kaidan," Tali said with a surprising amount of steel. "Garrus is still here. Keela! And you are the captain. It's your job to come to a compromise. You're both being pigheaded, and I don't know who is the bigger _bosh'tet_…"

"I don't want to push him. I'm not seeing any way I can make this better, Tali. Not when I think I'd go much further than Garrus to avenge my own friends." Shepard spoke quickly, in a last bid to maybe earn some sympathy from her friend.

"Now who's whining like a quarian with a tummy ache?" Tali snapped. "You march up there right now and go talk to him, or help me I have a shotgun and Chiktikka will fry both your optics…"

Shepard backed away from the quarian girl. Her formerly meek comrade had grown a quad that would put Wrex to shame. Hell, it put her to shame. With some effort, she retreated to the elevator, Donnelly and Daniel's nervous laughter echoing in the halls.

She leaned back against the wall, dreading the confrontation that was to come. Tali was right of course. She'd been pussyfooting around the issue. She just needed to man up and apologize. They could track Sidonis down again. Hell, she'd nail the sniveling bastard down to the floor of the cargo hold and let Garrus have at him. Admitting she was wrong wasn't such a hard thing. She did it all the time.

But she hated letting people down. Letting Garrus down in particular. She'd done so on Omega, and here she was doing it again. This was a personal failure. She could lead her crew and function, but she would have no peace till she and Garrus came to some kind of understanding. They had time. They could hunt down Sidonis again. Since Harkin was arrested, she'd let Garrus stuff him in a crate – with airholes – and mail him to C-Sec; it would be easier to find their quarry this time around.

"Commander, there is an altercation in the mess. You are needed right away to settle this." EDI's voice echoed in the confines of the elevator.

"Miranda and Jack at it again?" Shepard straightened up as the elevator doors opened.

"Negative, commander. The participants are Mr. Krios and Office Vakarian."

Before the shock had a chance to register, a chair sailed into the wall. The crew had scattered – most taking shelter in the med bay. In the corner, Gardner ducked behind his counter, occasionally peeking up to get a good view of the fight.

Garrus, his mandibles flaring, threw a punch. Thane jerked to the side, a little less graceful than usual. He still flowed like silk in water, dodging the rapid strikes and batting away Garrus's powerful talons.

"Stand down!" Shepard snarled, stalking forward.

Thane hissed as one of Garrus's strikes connected. He staggered back, and raised a hand, throwing the turian into the bulkhead with a powerful biotic wave.

A loud crack drowned out Shepard's order as Garrus hit the counter. To his credit, Garrus, steadied himself immediately and lurched forward, knocking aside chairs in his urgency to get to Thane.

This was unacceptable. This was her goddamned ship, Cerberus or not, and these…these…little boys knew better. Instinct kicked in and Shepard berated herself for letting her feelings get the best of her for so long. Friend or not, this kind of behavior would not be tolerated on her ship. Tali was right: she was the goddamned captain. It was time she acted like one. Even Grunt knew better than this and he was a teenage krogan. Thane vaulted across the table, intent on meeting Garrus halfway.

Shepard was faster. She charged into the midst of the fray, facing down Garrus.

"Enough!" she roared as both men hurtled toward her. Teeth clenched, she braced herself for impact.

Thane veered to the left, turning his charge into a roll and working off the excess momentum. Garrus clipped her side, skidding to halt by the med bay doors. His armor made a loud thunk as he slammed into the wall.

Still standing, albeit with aching ribs, Shepard glowered at them both.

"What the hell is going on here?"

Thane stood off the side, hands clasped behind his back, head bowed solemnly. From Garrus's corner there was only heavy breathing as he faced the wall.

"Gardner, give me a sitrep. Now," she said, her voice eerily calm.

The cook stood shakily, glancing at the broken furniture and chipped counter. Chairs were overturned, broken plates and spilled food littered the floor.

"…I...The turian – "

"Officer Vakarian," Shepard corrected, not taking her eyes off the turian in question.

"Officer Vakarian…" Gardner said with a rough gulp. "He bumped into Mr. Krios… they started arguing – I didn't hear about what, and…I think Officer Vakarian took the first swing."

"You think?" Shepard asked through gritted teeth. Her heart was still pounding. Getting between a turian and an assassin while not wearing any armor had not been the smartest idea. She'd be favoring her right side for awhile.

"I…I did indeed take the first swing, Commander." Garrus's voice was strained. He still hadn't turned away from the wall.

"Are there any pressing injuries?" Shepard asked. "Thane? Garrus?"

"No, _siha_. I…I'm sorry I…"

"No, Commander," Garrus said stiffly.

"Thane, I'll speak with you later. Go see, Dr. Chakwas. She'll patch you up. Officer Vakarian…" There was a tautness in her jaw that Shepard couldn't quite relax. She took a deep breath. "Come with me."

"Uh…Commander?"

Shepard turned to the cringing Gardner. Something on her face must have frightened him, because he immediately bent over to pick up an overturned pot.

"Leave it. The crew is dismissed for twenty four hours of shore leave. Effective immediately. Mr. Krios and Officer Vakarian will remain behind. EDI, make sure everyone is updated." Shepared ignored the gaping audience in the med bay.

"Yes, Commander."

"Dismissed."

Jaw clenched, Shepard silently made her way to the elevator, stepping over debris and spilled food. She could feel him on her six. He entered the elevator, keeping off to the side. She pushed the button for the lower decks and stared straight ahead, not trusting herself to look at him. Even from here, she could feel the rigidity of his posture. Tension filled the space between them, a smothering the otherwise roomy elevator. .

"I-"

"Not now, Garrus." It came out harsher than she intended, but Shepard was in no mood to apologize to anyone.

He fell silent and she led the way down to the cargo hold. Silently, she left him standing by a stack of crates. Down here, the crew had stashed some basic gym equipment. There was only one thing down here that really interested her. She unfolded several thick red mats in the makeshift exercise area. Kicking them across the floor, she lined them up and gazed expectantly at Garrus.

"How far can you throw me?"

"Excuse me?" He stared with those cat-like eyes, like he didn't understand the question.

"I said how far can you throw me? Think you can keep it on the mats?"

"I…" Garrus stared at her.

"You want to fight, Garrus? Let's go," she snapped. "You and me. Old school. No biotics. No tech. You can leave on the fancy armor if you're worried about getting hurt."

Garrus bristled, narrowing his eyes. "I don't think this is a good idea, Commander." He spat her title.

"Worried I'm going to kick your ass?" Shepard said coolly. She kicked off her shoes and pulled her shirt off, exposing unnaturally creamy skin and a black sports bra.

There was a sharp intake of breath. "Are you sure you want to do this?" Garrus's tone wavered.

Shepard stretched, ignoring him. She rolled her shoulders, trying to loosen the tension. Without looking at him, she continued to warm up. She was halfway done when she heard his heavy armor crash onto the floor. Legs spread in the splits, Shepard glanced up nonchalantly as Garrus stared down at her, shock written across his face.

Oh yes, turians didn't bend that way.

"Something wrong, soldier?" she scowled.

"I…I'll leave my gloves on," he said warily.

"Fair enough." Shepard pulled herself to her feet. "You need to limber up?"

"I'm…fine."

Shepard dropped into a defensive stance, hands up around her face. She'd done a bit of training on how to take down turians. An Alliance favorite really, right after batarians.

Underneath the armor, Garrus wore a tight black bodysuit – more insulation than anything else. He left his boots on. With the exception of the collar, turians were all razored angles and sleek sharp edges. Living weapons. An unpleasant smile crossed her face. This was going to hurt.

He was wearing his eyepiece, studying her with a look she didn't recognize.

Outside the armor, Garrus moved fast. He lunged forward and she danced backward, staying just out of range. Turians had long reach and sharp talons, though he'd said he wasn't going to use those.

He made a half-hearted punch and she easily deflected it.

"Come on, I've had nastier fights with Joker," she taunted.

Garrus snorted, not voicing whatever snappy comeback he might have had. Maybe he didn't have any. There was a predatory glint in his eyes now. He looked hungry, and Shepard wondered if they ate soft squishy primates on Palaven. He struck again and her head snapped back. White light burst behind her eyelids and she retreated further, her head ringing. She shook it off, focusing on the grim figure in front of her, smiling a bloody terrible smile.

"Is that all you got?"

* * *

This is shaping up to be three parts. I'd like to write more action, but I just like floating around in people's heads and making snippy dialogue. I like reviews, but who doesn't?


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews and such. They make me happy inside my heart.

I am taking some liberties with exact occurrences, but it's fanfiction and I felt like ME2 skimmed over a lot of chances for character development. You get three or four special coversations and there are radical viewpoint changes between some that make me go "wait, what?"

Ex: "SIDONIS MUST DIE...thank you Commander for stopping me!"

"NIKET MUST DIE...thank you Commander for stopping me!"

"I don't feel anything about krogans...OH BTW I HATE TURIANS NOW!"

...Sometimes the transitions feel a little rushed. (Of course, so do some of mine. *headdesk*)

I do like Thane a lot. This just isn't his story. Have a Thane story I want to write, but yeah...

* * *

This had started before Omega. Before her death. Even before Ilos. And it had all started with something a _krogan _had said. If not for Wrex, Garrus might not be in this situation. Whether he felt gratitude or hate, Garrus held Wrex and his own twisted mind accountable.

"It's a waste," Wrex told him one day while they were cleaning their guns after a particularly bloody merc battle.

Garrus inclined his head back warily, unsure what exactly the krogan was referring to.

"Shepard," he clarified. "It's a waste."

"We're on a mission to stop Saren…I don't see-"

"Obviously not, turian. You've got about as long as she does. But to me, it's a waste. Shepard would have made a great krogan. Probably could have rebuilt our people into more than glorified thugs. She thinks. She plans. But she'll get the job done better than anyone else." Wrex's tone remained gruff, belying the wealth of compliments that just spilled forth.

Garrus tried to picture Shepard as a krogan but failed. Too alien. So he tried to picture her as a turian. He almost could, the image he conjured was hazy. She would still be slender, but not so soft. She would be just as fierce and just as quick. If Shepard was a turian… he felt his face heat up just a little.

"If Shepard was a krogan, she'd have to be male. If she were female many a battlemaster would fall to gain rights to mate with her," Wrex mused with a crooked grin. "It's a waste, turian. A damn waste."

Quietly, Garrus wondered if he could follow a krogan Shepard or even if the krogans were able to produce someone like Shepard. Unlikely. She wouldn't make a good turian either – too righteous and pragmatic to follow a bad order. This time, he really tried to imagine her eyes a different size and shape, mandibles and a carapace instead of lips and soft skin, head fringe instead of that hair that humans had. It was too hard. Shepard was just Shepard. He couldn't imagine her any other way.

And then one day she was gone, and there was no Shepard. There was no crew. There was no justice. There was just Archangel and the fog of Omega; the perfect place to go if you wanted to disappear.

Days and nights in Omega blended into one smoky haze. He emulated her. He gathered a team, humans, turians, salarians, even a volus – and he got to work. It wasn't the Normandy and no one was Shepard, but it was something. He couldn't control the circumstances, but he could control how he reacted to them. He was going to do something. He was going to make a difference.

Sidonis understood. He was a raw young turian, brash and idealistic – the kid brother he'd never had. His men were honorable on their own. They just needed a good leader and a cause. On Omega there was no shortage of things to fix. But all that was gone too, in the blink of an eye. Everyone was dead, Sidonis had grown up wrong, and he was alone to shoulder the burden.

He slaughtered them. Blue Suns, Blood Pack, Eclipse…they all blended together for him. Every salarian was Saleon. Every turian was Sidonis. Every human was a disappointment – not Shepard. Not Alenko. Not Williams. And what killed him, what really killed him wasn't the bullets or the mechs. It was that none of this would ever matter. He'd changed a few lives, solved a few problems, but then the waves of Omega's criminal tide washed back over everything. In the end, it all meant nothing.

He hadn't fought a good fight. He'd fought a meaningless one. His aim was too low and if Shepard were here she'd be so disappointed in him. If it meant she was alive, he wouldn't care if she was a goddamned krogan.

And then in the sights of his rifle, the hallucinations came to life. And there she was, making a suicide run across his bridge, flanked by two more humans who weren't from the Normandy. It didn't matter. It was Shepard. She was here. And even if it wasn't really, he didn't care, not if he died believing she was coming for him.

* * *

The new Normandy was far more luxurious than the old one. Spacious, better-equipped, and even if the crew was Cerberus, they all treated him with a healthy amount of respect. He'd taken a missile to the face after all.

And Shepard, Shepard gravitated to him. Not that he minded. Like the others from the SR1, they shared a bond. He and Shepard moreso, because they'd gone into combat together countless times. He knew she favored her right side. He knew she often forgot to check her own six – but she'd always have his. He knew she liked him to start out every battle by overloading shields – "Shock and awwww, you're not so tough any more" she called it.

When she'd gently turned down a lovelorn Jacob, she'd told him about it, not that nosy chipper thing that followed her around. He'd been uncomfortable at first, not used to talking about _that_ sort of thing with Shepard. But she'd needed someone to listen, and he'd been happy to hear her out. In fact, hearing that she had no interest in Jacob left him absurdly happy. It was because Jacob was Cerberus of course. And Alenko was his friend. At least before Horizon. That was it, of course. Of course.

* * *

The heat on Haestrom didn't bother him so much. But Tali… Dread churned in the pit of his stomach. The young quarian girl might have had excellent shields and a state of the art environmental suit, but he couldn't help but worry. He wasn't the only one.

Upon finding the ground littered with dead quarians, environmental suits torn open, delicate tissue already rotting in the heat, Shepard had fallen silent and they'd picked up the pace. Thane hadn't asked any questions, following Shepard's lead. In fact, the drell assassin had been coming on a lot of missions with them lately. Shepard rotated her squads, but Garrus was at her side more often than not and now so was Thane. He understood, somewhat. Out of all their new squadmates, Thane was possibly the most trustworthy and the least likely to shoot them in the back. Ironic really, since he was an assassin and all that.

Tali's terse staticky-messages urged them on. She was alive. She was in trouble. And they weren't leaving one of their own behind. Not again.

Shepard had assigned him to the injured quarian and damnit, he didn't need to babysit Tali's friends. He needed to focus on her.

"How is everything out there?" Tali's voice was distant, so close but not close enough.

"Just like old times," he muttered, crouched behind debris, trying to get a clear shot at the geth colossus.

"That bad?" she asked and Garrus laughed – that was before the colossus managed to jam her transmission.

The male quarian at his side popped his head up, a grenade in hand.

"Keep your head down, Reegar," Shepard shouted across the com. "If I can see your shiny red head from here, you bet the goddamned colossus can!" Garrus focused on his shot, trying to ignore just how close Shepard was getting to the massive synthetic.

"I'm trying to cover you, _siha_," Thane said across the channel, and it occurred to Garrus that he didn't even know where the drell was. "But you need to pull back, you're too close."

Shepard was down on the ground, darting around the colossus's legs, trying to keep it distracted. Fucking hell, she was fast, firing off a couple shots before diving for cover. The geth couldn't quite keep up with her, too large to turn like she did, but she couldn't keep it up forever and if it just decided to bring the ruins down on their heads…

"Shepard, get your ass back over here," Garrus snarled. "Because I'm about to bring that son of bitch down on your pretty head."

"You really think my head's pretty?" Shepard sounded breathless over the com. He couldn't tell if she was laughing or winded or both.

"Not if I have to scrape it off the underside of a geth's armor plating," Garrus shouted, his shot slamming into the giant armature's lens.

A bright pulse lit up the already unbearably bright day. Garrus's vision went black, but the air around him was silent, no familiar hum of shields. And if his shields were down from this distance…Shepard. Eyes widening to almost human proportions, he was on his feet, sniper rifle tossed aside. Switching to his assault rifle, he charged forward, visor triangulating Shepard's position.

She was down, vital signs active but sluggish. He vaulted over rubble and spare geth parts. The inside of his head rang with gunfire.

"Krios-"

"I have you covered," Thane said, not quite as calmly as he usually sounded.

Garrus grunted his gratitude. Shepard's armored form lay behind a stones, thankfully shielded from the sun's rays. In the armor, she was heavier than she looked, but having her lean on him was a familiar weight, one he welcomed.

He cradled her head, one eye on the giant armature that was trying vainly to draw a bead on Thane.

Nestled against his chest, he half-guided, half-dragged her to cover. She groaned, something he picked up from proximity, not the comm system. He was not sure what functions of her suit had shorted out, but she just seemed a little stunned.

His pulse still hadn't slowed.

"It feels like the morning after shore leave…" she said as she steadied herself against a rock.

"Great times, those. Watched you try to outdrink Wrex once." Her medigel didn't seem to be flowing fast enough and he gave her some of his.

"Yeah… I've had better ideas." Shepard grimaced as the projectiles flew overhead. Wild energy and shrapnel cut through the air around them. "You were supposed to stay with Reegar. Tali's going to be mad if we let her boyfriend die."

Garrus snorted, taking aim. He could see Kal'Reegar popping back up, tossing either grenades (or were those rocks?) at the colossus.

"Sit tight," he said.

Instead, Shepard unhooked her grenade launcher.

Thane had managed to whittle down the geth's armor pretty well, or at least keep it from regenerating too fast. Garrus felt a grudging amount of approval. He liked Thane, or more specifically, he saw no reason why he should dislike Thane. Except for how the drell looked at Shepard. Wistfulness. Longing. Like a dying man…well, fair enough.

"You worn out already, Garrus?" Shepard chuckled as she lined up her shot.

He fired, hitting the colossus in the optics – even if he didn't prance around in skintight leather, he still had spectacular sniping skills. He snuck a glance at Shepard who was squinting at the geth monstrosity.

Momentary deafness set in as Shepard hit the thing with the nuke launcher. A few well-placed sniper shots and the colossus was suddenly a very expensive piece of scrap metal. Almost immediately, Shepard was on her feet and heading straight for where Tali was meant to be.

"Garrus, tell Thane to check on Reegar."

"I heard her," Thane said over the comm, though Garrus still wasn't sure where the drell was. His scanner picked up slight movement in the area where he left the quarian, and he could see the faint outline of Thane helping the injured Kal'Reegar to his feet. "He's the same as when we found him."

Garrus conveyed the news and Shepard nodded.

"You should have stayed with him." She wobbled forward.

"And left you down here?" Garrus asked, his incredulity of the amused variety.

"I'd have been fine. One measly geth wasn't going to kill me."

"It was going to make you drinks then?" Garrus fell in stride beside her, not bothering to stick to the shadows.

Shepard didn't answer him, already bounding into the building ahead. And when they found Tali, alive and unharmed, he was so relieved to see her (Oh my, how she'd grown from a shy little quarian maiden to their very own shotgun-toting princess mad-scientist…), he forgot all about it. Everyone was alive. Shepard was all right. That's all that mattered.

It was only back on the ship that she'd picked back up on the topic. That was Shepard, never forgot an argument she needed to finish. Sometimes she let it go, but she never forgot it…

"Back there on Haestrom. Thane says you broke cover and ran out there blind like an idiot," were the first words out of her mouth when she cornered him in the main battery.

"I can't actually see Thane calling me an idiot," he mused, taken aback by her brusque manner.

"He didn't. My words," Shepard said sourly, hands on her hips as she glared up at him. "What the hell was that?"

"I don't know. What were you doing facing a gunship down armed with nothing but a heavy pistol?"

Shepard settled down on a pile of crates, her usual seat, and favored him with a withering look. "That was different."

"You're right. I had an assault rifle." He grinned at her, savoring the banter.

She didn't smile back. Her fists were balled at her side and she wasn't looking at him any more. "I can't afford to lose you, Garrus," she blurted out, suddenly. "You. Tali. Joker, even. Not now."

Not after Horizon was what she meant. Garrus paused, staring at his omni-tool, trying to think up an appropriate response. He was good with witty comebacks. Emotional confessions, not so much.

She didn't talk about Horizon or what had happened between her and Alenko. She'd spent a few days after it in seclusion and just when he'd worked up the nerve to go speak to her about it, she'd emerged cool and collected without a trace of her earlier turmoil. She was Shepard; she wasn't going to be brought down by a little heartbreak.

He'd wanted to strangle his former comrade. Did Alenko think he was the only one who loved Shepard? The only one who had been hurt by her passing? Tali and Wrex were the only ones who walked away from the Normandy unbroken. Wrex – because he was a krogan. They _endured_. Tali… Tali had no shortage of things to fix either. She and Wrex had found their places, their purpose helping their own people.

"I-we can't afford to lose you either, Shepard. Not again." He didn't look up, worried that his face would give him away.

He could hear her breath hitch and he slowly swung himself around to face her.

Human expressions were difficult, but Shepard he could read. His gaze lingered on her hands. She twisted them slightly, probably unaware of it. She didn't do it around her new crewmates, just the old ones; a sign there was still a person behind the epic paragon.

"Garrus…"

"We should both be more careful. You especially. Don't tell Miranda, but I snuck a peek at the budget for the Lazarus Project. I really can't afford to lose you again – not on a vigilante's salary." Garrus managed to sound nonchalant as he faced her.

She laughed roughly and leaned back, watching him with those big expressive eyes. The main battery was warm. His sniper rifle was clean. Shepard was smiling at him.

Garrus couldn't think of any place else he would rather be.

* * *

Peace of mind was a fleeting thing. Calibrating in the main battery gave him time to think – something he'd started doing on Omega. Shepard was different now. Her scars had changed, and though she still tried to do things the right way, there was a certain ruthlessness in the way she conducted herself. Touching death changed everyone, and she walked away a little tattered around the edges. They all had.

Now they were on another impossible mission and he was strangely comfortable with that. This was something worthwhile. This was where he was meant to be – not just because he was some sort of crazed adrenaline junkie. Tali and Shepard would both come visit him, sometimes to review missions and exchange veiled dialogue about certain Cerberus crewmates and policies. Sometimes they would just reminisce about the good old days. And when Tali accidentally mentioned Alenko, Shepard glided right through it, with all the poise and grace he remembered.

It was instinct and motion. The Shepard he knew would still be hurt by a comrade's rejection, especially one as intimate as Alenko. He'd spoken up, there on Horizon. He'd fought Cerberus alongside them. Hell, so had Tali and she'd had even more of a reason to hate them. The greeting she'd given Jacob still brought a smile to his stiff face.

It curved into a snarl when he found a new message from one of his contacts. Sidonis was on the Citadel.

* * *

The back of her head stayed in line with his sights. Her hair was tied back today, revealing a slender delicate neck. When Sidonis moved, she moved and he had no hope of taking out Sidonis without hurting her. What the fuck was she doing? She'd said she would help him. She of all people should have understood the need to avenge her own. She'd gone on a massacre after Virmire – giving no quarter to tankborn krogans or geth. For a brief moment, he thought about shooting her in the knee just to get her out of the way. One shot to the knee would bring her down – Cerberus could fix her back up. There wasn't much cover out here and Sidonis tended to dive to the left, so if he swung the barrel ten millimeters and…

His blood ran cold as he realized exactly what was going through his head.

"Garrus…is this really what you want to do?" Her voice floated over the comm, soft and almost pleading. He didn't hear the rest of the words. She was talking fast, and he couldn't listen any more. Not after what he'd been prepared to do.

"Just…" he wavered, and then that sick feeling built up in his gut. Shepard had taken the time to explain why she'd dealt with Saleon the way she had. Even if she killed him in the end, she was in control of her actions. She was doing things for the right reason. She was doing her best to minimize collateral damage. And here he was, thinking about blowing out his best friend's knee because she'd been in his way. How did that make him any better than Saren? "Tell him to go," Garrus managed to spit out, though his gut knotted and his heart clenched. He said a few more things, but they came out automatically, meaningless in the grand scheme of things.

The walk back to the shuttle was a tense one. Thane was at his side, too comfortable for Garrus's liking.

"You did the right thing, letting him go," Thane said in his serene manner.

Garrus tightened his fists and walked faster. "Right thing? What would an assassin know about the right thing?" He felt Thane draw back, and took vicious pleasure from making him squirm.

Shepard. The one person who cared enough to hunt for him – she might not have gone to Omega looking for him, but after watching her seek out Tali, Kaidan, Liara, and Wrex, he knew she would have come for him eventually. What the hell had he been thinking? What the hell was wrong with him?

"Garrus." Shepard stood at the shuttle a tired smile on her strangely pretty face.

He couldn't face her. Not yet. Not after what had just happened.

"Are you all right?"

"I don't want to talk about it and I have nothing to say to you." He was ashamed, and even worse, some primal part of him was still furious that she'd stood between him and Sidonis. Even if shooting her was the worst idea he'd ever had, he still wanted to lash out. The cycle of guilt fed itself as he glared past her.

"Garrus," she murmured his name so gently it made his chest ache.

"Not now, Shepard. Or I'll end up doing something we'll both regret."

* * *

He'd been avoiding everyone for a week. Shepard was still taking him out on missions, but there was heavy uncomfortable silence between them. Tali filled it with nervous tech chatter. Jacob tried to make jokes and reminded Garrus entirely too much of Kaidan. Jack took one look at them, rolled her eyes and told them something like "Fuck this, you both suck – if you need a biotic, get Samara."

He'd gritted his teeth and bore it. There was nothing he could say to Shepard right now, and she didn't seem to keen on talking to him either. She'd made herself scarce and if Chambers's scuttlebutt was to be believed, she'd been spending quite a bit of time in Life Support. He'd disappointed her. She'd infuriated him. Regarding Sidonis, he knew he should apologize. But it still felt wrong, even if he was wrong, she wrong too, right? She'd brought out the best and worst in him and even as he wanted to thank her, he wanted to strangle her for it too. And that was before the green-skinned assassin factored into the mix.

OK, so he crossed the line in his pursuit of Sidonis. Sidonis might have deserved to die, but how he acted with Shepard in his scope, blind to all else…she was right about his reaction. Sidonis still should have died. His heart rested uneasy on that one. His men deserved better than that.

Shepard deserved better than this.

But then he remembered drell – who looked exactly how a male asari would have if they had such things. He was shaped just like Shepard and he was levo-dextro, not dextro-amino. The women on the ship seemed especially taken with his giant fish-like eyes and exotic green skin. Thane looked at Shepard as much more than a commanding officer. Like back in the shuttle- he'd seen Thane trying to "comfort" her.

It made him see red.

He couldn't talk to her like this. He couldn't talk to anyone, wound tightly like an overcoiled spring. Chambers kept coming by, till he made it very clear that he didn't trust a Cerberus headshrinker any more than he did one of their other eggheads. Making her cry hadn't been as satisfying as he'd thought it would be. Sleep eluded him. The food didn't have any taste to lose. He had no peace of mind.

He probably deserved this.

All these exceptionally unprofessional feelings knotted his gut, blew his cool. Garrus was far from inexperienced. He'd been with turians and even asari, though whatever they had between them never lasted very long. Shepard was different. She was Shepard and even if she was interested… They were too different. He'd run across a few human-turian pairings, but they'd never struck him as the healthiest relationships. Too much of a cultural divide. Too much negative outside pressure. Too much of a risk.

A maelstrom of half-realized emotions simmered under his thick skin. It was all so absurd, and what he wanted, he had no other words for.

Nutrient paste and a bottle of water in hand, Garrus headed back to his room, suddenly struck by how much of a coward he was.

He didn't see Thane and the assassin could have easily moved. Instead he planted himself in Garrus's path and waited. Caught up in his thoughts, Garrus stumbled as he collided with the drell, spilling water all over the floor.

"What the hell was that for Krios?"

"You bumped into me," Thane said without inflection.

"And you could have easily avoided me, so don't expect me to buy that innocent act. What do you want?" Garrus hissed, leaning into Thane's space.

"I wanted to inform you of a decision I have made." The assassin blinked rapidly.

"Congratulations. I'll send a card." The malice welled up and Garrus stared at the drell, willing him to drop dead prematurely.

"I wanted to tell you. You and Shepard seemed close. So I didn't want to interfere. Now that you appear to want nothing to do with her, I will do my best to stand beside her." And in case he didn't get the hint, Thane continued, "Your behavior is unworthy of her concern."

Sometimes Thane's formality overcomplicated things. It took Garrus a moment to register his meaning: he was going to pursue Shepard.

And that damn bastard was rubbing his nose in it.

Tossing his meal aside – a cry from Gardner let him know exactly where it splattered - Garrus glowered at Thane. "And what makes you think you're good enough for her?"

To Thane's credit, the only indication of a taunt was the ever-present patient smile on his too-pretty face. "She can talk to me. And I trust her – I won't walk away from her just because she makes a call that I don't like."

Anger tugging at his tongue, Garrus couldn't think of a sharp enough retort. So he did the next best thing, he swung.

Thane was a blur.

Garrus could count the number of blows he managed to land on one hand. Thane was all over him, but his rapid strikes were blunted by Garrus's armor. Without weapons, it was a stalemate, logic said. But Garrus didn't want logic or weapons; he wanted the satisfaction of pounding that wannabe asari into the ground. Around him, crew members dashed elsewhere, their boots pounding against the floor.

Thane had probably killed a bunch of turians before. Garrus had never fought a drell.

Garrus picked up a chair and threw it, Thane slid to the side. His lips were pulled in a grim line, but he wasn't trying to talk. Good. That calm oh so reasonable rasp would have sent him over the edge.

He struck again, timing just right, and Thane reeled, his flimsy leather outfit doing little to protect him from the impact of Garrus's blow.

The assassin was very light on his feet. One moment he was there at the end of the turian's fist, the next he was at Garrus's side launching his own counterstrike. Garrus shifted and the side of his heavy armor absorbed the worst of it. Undeterred, the assassin drew back, his dark eyes narrowed as he looked for a flaw in Garrus's defenses.

The blue shimmer of a biotic wave struck him hard and he was suddenly airborne and crashing into the kitchen counter. In the distance, he heard someone shouting, but really, all that mattered was that he was going to settle things with Thane.

Picking himself up, he smirked at the drell. The assassin was breathing heavy now, and his expression was just as fierce. He surged forward, batting aside overturned chairs and crushing plates just so he could sink his talons into that-

And suddenly, she was there, right between them.

"Enough!" she shouted, cold fury and something like murder written all over face. He couldn't stop, but he changed his course, brushing past her and braking hard into the wall of the Normandy.

He heard Thane land in the distance. Relief and maybe a little admiration for the assassin's skill loosened his tension just a little bit. No one had landed on Shepard. Good.

"What the hell is going on here?"

Garrus didn't have an answer for himself, let alone her.

* * *

Just the two of them alone in the cargo hold –if the circumstances hadn't been what they were, it might have been funny, titillating even.

But there was nothing funny about the way she was looking at him now. It was red hot anger bridled with cold pragmatism, but stoked by personal outrage. He'd seen that look in her eye before – right before she killed someone who'd gone above and beyond to piss her off. Her eyes were narrowed and her jaw rigid. There was a tautness to her shoulders, emphasized by her lack of armor. She carried herself forward with ironclad determination. It wasn't funny; it was scary as hell and that might have been just a little bit arousing.

This wasn't the time, he reprimanded himself.

She'd put down the red mats, maybe to sop up the blood that she was going to spill. Had she forgotten turian blood was bright blue? Or maybe she wanted them another color.

A tight panic built in his chest. He'd crossed the line. He'd fucked up badly. He'd struck one of his squadmates. Worse yet, Thane hadn't really deserved it because goddamnit, he'd been right. Guilt and self-loathing twisted his innards.

She outlined her proposition. She wanted to spar. She wanted to hand him his ass on a plate and the idea of it all made him squirm inside his skin. Sparring with women had a special place in his mind, something that took the edge off cold lonely nights.

But she hadn't meant it like that. She was angry at him. This was all business and he couldn't afford to fuck it up any more. He managed a snarky reply, and mentally conceded that this was nothing more than what it looked like and maybe they both needed to beat the tension out of each other. Maybe then she'd accept his apology and they could be friends again. He wasn't going to read any more into this and his emotions weren't going to get the best of him this time. Garrus found some solace in that path.

And then she took off her shirt.

The cargo hold was naturally cool, but suddenly Garrus felt flushed. Her skin was too smooth for someone who'd fought in so many battles. A tight black piece of fabric – like something an asari dancer would wear – covered her breasts. His throat tightened as he watched her chest rise and fall. He'd developed an appreciation for asari during his time on the Citadel. Humans weren't so different and Shepard... She tied her hair back in a messy ponytail. He was aching to touch it.

But if he started touching her, he didn't know if he could stop and that would be very unwise.

"Are you sure you want this?" he asked, not quite meaning the sparring.

She simply got on the floor. She jerked her shoulders up and down a few times causing her chest to heave in the most distracting way. And then she dropped to ground, her legs spread in a 180 degree angle. He gaped. Asari were flexible yes, but he'd had no idea Shepard could…

Somewhere he gained the presence of mind to take off his armor. His bodysuit was tight, leaving little to the imagination. With any luck all the protruding bones and bits would mask the other protruding bit that wasn't meant to be noticed.

He left his gloves and boots on, glancing at her soft skin and blunt nails. His visor monitored her heartrate and vitals: higher than usual pulse, elevated temperature… she was furious with him.

In the name of self-preservation, he started out, trying to grab hold of her. She dodged and he countered, pulling his punch.

"Come on, I've had nastier fights with Joker," she taunted.

It almost made him smile, because he knew there was nothing going on between her and Joker. If Shepard needed a man, it wouldn't be a breakable one. He threw a harder punch, just to let her know he wasn't like Joker.

When it impacted she stumbled backward, blood trickling from a split lip. She bared her teeth at him, grinning ferally.

"Is that all you got?"

Shepard didn't give him time to retort. She went on the offensive, throwing a vicious hook. Garrus had never seen her fight without cumbersome armor – she was even faster now, and her knuckles glanced off his chin, the thick carapace scraping her skin lightly.

He grunted at the force of the blow and staggered. She followed up with a raised knee, intent on hitting him in the gut. He kicked forward, beating her to the strike. His foot connected with her chest and she fell backward, hitting the ground and rolling knees-over-head. At first he thought he'd hurt her as she rolled so neatly, like a geth armature, across the mats. But suddenly she was on her feet again and back in her combat stance.

Her flexibility was…enticing.

He lunged again, this time intent on capturing her.

Shepard dove to the side and swept her leg across the ground, aiming for just under his ankle joints. He staggered when she hit, but regained his balance and kicked back.

She grunted as the sole of his boot hit her square in the chest. But she rolled with it, and was on her feet again in seconds. Still grinning she lunged at him, elbows striking upward under his chin. Garrus's head spun even as his mind registered the sharp crack.

A light sheen of sweat coated Shepard's exposed skin. She was pitting her speed and agility against his strength and range. He didn't know the extent of her cybernetic upgrades, but he knew from before that an Alliance N7 marine who happened to be a Spectre wasn't someone to be trifled with. Her countenance was fierce and her skills deadly.

Women like that made it so hard to focus.

He barreled into her, using his weight and momentum to overpower whatever graceful defensive move she had been in the midst of executing. She cried out as they hit the mats, his body pinning hers to the ground.

She was warm and soft and he could feel her trying to squirm free underneath him. His breathing was hard and he winced as she punched him in the chest.

"Got you, Shepard," his voice was rough.

"Do you?" she mocked and suddenly one leg wrapped around his waist. He stifled a groan as she rubbed against him. She wiggled and raised her hips, the sensation stimulating… and suddenly he was on his back, and she was straddling his waist. Hunched over him, she held her forearm against his throat, pushing the bony edge down, choking him.

He grunted, trying to gain the balance to throw her off. On his back, his collar left him with a distinct disadvantage, but it wasn't a stable platform. Rounded, it allowed him to roll slightly to side. The shift caught her off balance and he tossed her off him.

The frisson of something traveled up his spine as he watched her climb to her feet, panting slightly.

"Getting tired, Shepard?" He growled, standing.

"It takes more than a whiny turian to wear me out."

"Whiny?" Garrus narrowed his eyes. His leg shot out, striking her in the side, and she swayed, groaning.

"Yeah," she grinned, bravado not dented in the least. She was on him again. "You heard me. Whiny." Punch. "Sulky." Punch. "Juvenile." Punch. Three out of three. "Grunt and Jack have nothing on Garrus Vakarian."

"You're right. Grunt and Jack have nothing on me," Garrus mocked, tasting blood in his mouth. He whirled, dodging her next flurry. "You still should have let me kill him." He leapt toward her, arms outstretched.

Shepard rolled under him, barely evading in time.

"He might have deserved to die, but you needed to calm the fuck down," she spat, turning to face him.

"Killing him would have gotten it out of my system," he said with conviction.

"This isn't just about Sidonis. If it was, you wouldn't have gone after Thane." Shepard charged him, shoulder-first. He didn't move fast enough and she slammed into him, knocking him off balance. He latched onto her, pulling her down with him.

"What happened between Krios and me is none of your business," he said gruffly, savoring the feel of her pressed against him.

"It is when you start tearing my ship up, asshole." The palm of Shepard's hand slammed into the side of his face – the nonmetal side.

Garrus's head flew back and he snarled. He recovered, whipping it back and headbutting her straight in the forehead.

Shepard cursed, falling back on her butt. "You fucking trying to kill me, Garrus? Your head's the hardest part on you, you stubborn bastard." She gritted her blunt white teeth for him.

"Not the hardest part," he muttered, taking a moment to look at her forehead. His rough skin had scraped her face – she was bleeding.

"What?"

"You're bleeding. This is stupid. You're going to get hurt."

"Fuck you, don't change the subject. You're just worried I'm going to scratch up the floor with your scaly ass." She shoved him away from her and staggered to her feet. "You've been an unbearable asshole for the past week. You really want Sidonis that badly, we can head back and get him," she said bitterly. "But you have to tell me what crawled up your ass and died."

Garrus barked a harsh laugh. "Trust me, _Commander_. You don't want to know."

"No, fuck you Garrus. You don't get to tell me what I don't want to know. You want rub my rank in my face. Fine. Tell me what the hell Thane did to set you off. That's a goddamned order, _Officer_ _Vakarian_." Shepard stared daggers at him.

When he didn't answer she went airborne. He watched with not a little admiration as she hit him with a flying kick, the ball of her foot striking him square in the chest. Garrus wheezed and went down, more focused on catching himself than grabbing Shepard. He lay there for a moment, pretending to be stunned.

Shepard lunged at him, but this time he was ready for her. He caught her and channeled the momentum into rolling her onto her back. This time he seated himself on her stomach and pinned her wrists down with one hand.

Her breaths became shallower as he sat there, knees pressed on either side of her.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Yeah, I bet you don't," she hissed, biting her lip. Blood trickled down her chin and Garrus's eyes widened.

"You're hurt."

"Me? Ha! You've barely touched me," Shepard sneered.

Garrus nudged one side with his knee. She didn't react. But when he touched the other, she jerked away, a slight whine escaping her throat.

Releasing her hands, he rose, carefully examining her lower right side. Her warm skin was so smooth. He was grateful for the gloves – bare skin against bare skin was too tempting.

"Shepard…"

"We're not done, Garrus." She tried to push him off of her, but he stayed in place, just enough to hold her down.

"I'll tell you what you want to know, if you'll stop this and get some medical attention…and tell me where it hurts."

She laughed harshly, her hard stare boring through his exoskeleton. "I gave you an order, Garrus. Don't make me get up and kick your ass for insubordination as well as being an idiot."

His gaze flickered off the side. The turian in him couldn't quite resist a command, and he, whatever he was these days, couldn't quite resist her. "Thane wants to pursue you." He exhaled, relenting to her demands. His fingers grazed her side and she twitched beneath him, soft and pliable.

Shepard stared up at him, confusion etched on her face. "He-what?"

"Thane has more than friendly feelings for you," Garrus said slowly, wondering if that last headbutt had done any serious damage.

"And so you punched him? Because of that?" He recognized the incredulity on her face. Her voice was higher than usual.

"No. Yes. It's complicated." Garrus rocked back on his heels, crouched over her but no longer holding her down. She was warm beneath him and he savored her proximity. She smelled so good, her own musky scent mixed with a tinge of gun oil.

Shepard propped herself up on her elbows, her eyes on his face. Her wiggly pink tongue darted out, licking those full sensuous lips. He knew what asari could do with their mouths. And Shepard was under him, almost half-naked…

Garrus swallowed roughly, his muscles taut and composure fracturing.

"It's complicated, huh?" Shepard's voice sounded breathier and he wondered if it was because of her injured side.

Instinctlustweaknessindecency-something overwhelmed his caution. He put his arms forward, steadying himself as he pressed his chest to hers. He felt her stiffen as he breathed across the graceful curve of her neck. It was complicated. He didn't have words, so he abandoned them in favor of action.

* * *

A/N: Confession: I'm not sure how I feel about Garrus in this chapter. On one hand, I obviously think he's IC, otherwise I wouldn't have written it this way. On the other hand, it's so different from the Garrus we usually see, I'm kind of worried. Garrus is a confident ass-kicking dinosaur space-cowboy, but in the game he's so...awkward about his feelings for Shepard that I can see him as hemming and hawing and worrying about everything. I like a bit of uncertainty and vulnerability before he does what he's got to do.

On that same note, I feel like some of the pieces should have been cut. I might go back and do that later. The Haestrom bit feels like it doesn't quite fit and I sort of want to trim some of the "Garrus is angsty" bits. I didn't wanted to rehash everything from Shepard's chapter and I rather liked the buildup for his feelings, but...maybe it's too slow.

The next chapter will have...adult situations. Because this one was totally kindergartner friendly.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: This just keeps getting longer. Seriously, I need to stop this. This was just meant to be a oneshot sexy!sparring smutfic, and then it turned into its own mega-Reaper-monster fic. I think I have to blame Eradyn over on the Garrus Love and Adoration Thread for making a comment about sexy!sparring. It got lodged in my head and I've finally worked it out. Sorta.

Thanks for the reviews; I do enjoy hearing what people think, even if I don't agree.

* * *

To address some issues:

1. _Your whiny-ass bitch of a Shepard swears. A-fucking- lot. What the hell are you trying to prove, dipshit? _

Soldiers, at least the ones I know, tend to get very foul-mouthed. It isn't anything personal and usually they don't expect people to take offense, it's just part of the subculture. Shepard is Commander enough not to be amazingly vulgar in front of her crew, but Garrus was a soldier too and she's more comfortable being relaxed with him. It seems natural to me.

Plus I just like being a potty-mouth. They're not bad words, they're sentence-enhancers. =P

_2. Thane is OOC. Seriously, why don't you make your Shepard wear lots of eyeliner and listen to Dashboard Confessional while you're at it? _

Valid concern. My Shepard does wear mascara, but no Dashboard Confessional. I think this chapter addresses that. In-game Thane is very passive, but I see a lot of potential for passionate!Thane as well. It's just on his own terms. Reserve judgment till after this chapter? It's still a different take on what you see in-game and I'll admit I've taken liberties with exact occurrences.

_3. This is like a soap opera. A bad bad soap opera chocked full of alien-testosterone and rampant angst. What have you done to my favorite characters, you sick sick bitch?_

Wait, I thought Mass Effect was like all the other old school sci-fi space operas. You go to space, meet a bunch of aliens, and then sleep with them. Or maybe that's just me. .

Relationship drama comes with the territory? Seriously, real relationships are drama-ful and such. There's trust, compassion, and love, but there's also jealousy, pettiness, and anger. At least in every relationship I've ever been in. It keeps things interesting. ^_^

Dragon Age gives you a lot more characterization/one-on-one conversations than Mass Effect 2 does. (I liked watching love interests bicker. But I am a bad bad person and would uh, never do that in real life. Nope.) I was kind of disappointed by the dearth of conversational options so I'm just filling in the blanks with my take. Am I going to argue that it has to be any particular way? Nope. I'm just writing this for fun.

* * *

In front of the crew, Shepard strove to maintain the balance between being professional and being approachable. Her role was to be the unflappable, larger-than-life leader; and the situation left no room for her to moan and bitch about it. Secluded in the cargo hold with Garrus, Shepard found her control rapidly deteriorating. She didn't have to pretend with him. Garrus was her friend – she didn't want to be purely professional with him. This was a suicide mission, she understood that, and maybe after Virmire, she should have learned not to get so attached. But in light of recent events, she wasn't about to start beating herself up for it. Garrus was an excellent comrade and a better friend. He listened to her, but officially she had never been his CO. Garrus didn't need her to look after him. But it didn't mean she wasn't going to try.

Teetering on the balls of her feet, she tried to shake off the dizziness from his onslaught. Garrus hit hard, and her side ached from all the jarring movement. He had to weigh twice as much as she did. Punching his natural armor stung, it made her bones vibrate, and she switched to open palm strikes, just to give her knuckles a rest. He was fast too, and she regretted limiting herself purely to hand-to-hand combat. She was good, but this was far from a fair fight. Her tactical techniques for taking down a turian barehanded would all leave permanent damage.

He was very good as well. And he was holding back.

That thought crawled under skin, making her want to tan his scaly hide for the insult. A less irate part of her was glad he didn't want to tear her open. He was fast, but he'd been fighting Thane earlier. She was a little fresher and she was definitely more agile. She circled him, shifting back to defensive tactics.

Ever the impatient one, he rushed her, his superior weight bringing her down. She hit the ground hard, bracing for him to crush her, but he caught himself, shifting his weight so it was just enough to pin her to the ground. She hit him on reflex, but it didn't seem to do anything. She was breathing hard now, and his body was hard and hot against hers.

"Got you, Shepard." His flanging voice was thick and husky. Her spine prickled and she suppressed a shiver. Her mouth felt very dry as she stared at his scarred face. She thought she could read him, but at this moment, she didn't recognize the look on his face.

"Do you?" She tried to sound nonchalant; instead it came out almost coy. She caught his waist in a leg lock, gritting her teeth as she pressed her hips tightly against his. His bony turian parts jutted against her and she tried not to think just how intimate this might look or feel. He stared down at her for a moment, too shocked, maybe appalled to counter her. Taking advantage of his stunned inaction, she flipped him on his back, legs on either side of his narrow waist. Unsure of what to do next (marines weren't usually drilled on how to grapple with a turian - you were usually dead from blood loss by that point), she settled for trying to choke him out. Shifting her weight forward, she held her arm to his throat, but he was wiggling too much. Turians weren't flat-backed enough for this position to really be effective. He tossed her off him and she hit the ground harder than she would have liked. Still, out of masochism or pure spite, she picked herself back up and faced him.

"Getting tired, Shepard?" Something about the way he said her name set her off-balance. It wasn't malicious. It wasn't friendly. She didn't know what exactly to make of it right now, but at least he wasn't out to kill her.

"It takes more than a whiny turian to wear me out." Her mouth was an entity all its own. Here, at least they were speaking again, even if it was only trash talk. It was an improvement over the past week. She went after him again, savoring the taunts and banter, even if it was only by rote. Here they weren't CO and subordinate. They were Garrus and Shepard. A good CO didn't lose her temper with her stubborn-ass de facto XO. But Shepard could damn well be pissed at Garrus.

And then he brought it up.

"You still should have let me kill him." He punctuated the sentiment by cutting through the air, his forearms nearly hitting her.

Shepard spun to face him, having just executed a nimble evasive maneuver. All the doubts and prepared speeches she had been going over, just for this occasion, evaporated. This was Garrus and they didn't have time for bullshit. "He might have deserved to die, but you needed to calm the fuck down."

"Killing him would have gotten it out of my system," he said stiffly, his argument an accusation as well.

Staring him down, hair in disarray, bones aching, blood dripping from her knuckles, she suddenly didn't feel like apologizing. This wasn't the time. This was for working it all out of his system, and hers. She could be charming later on.

"This isn't just about Sidonis. If it was, you wouldn't have gone after Thane," she challenged him and when he didn't reply, she threw all her weight against his limbs. They buckled and he fell, dragging her down with him.

"What happened between Krios and me is none of your business." Garrus held her against him, not letting her get the leverage to launch an effective attack.

"It is when you start tearing my ship up, asshole," she snapped, more irritated by his reticence than any property destruction. His body was hot and hard against hers and she struggled against his embrace. Finding herself locked tightly against his body, she lashed out, striking the left side of his face.

Garrus's grip loosened and she looked up in time to see stars. His head slammed into hers and she cried out as she fell backwards. She caught herself clumsily, reeling from the blast to the head. A three-fingered hand pressed against the small of her back, steadying her as Garrus knelt in front of her. Her brow stung and she felt Garrus's other hand gently rubbing the spot he'd struck mere seconds ago.

"You fucking trying to kill me, Garrus? Your head's the hardest part on you, you stubborn bastard," she complained, suddenly embarrassed that he'd had to stop because she'd gotten hurt. She wasn't so that fragile and damnit, they had issues to sort out.

Grunting, he murmured something as his hands traveled over her bare skin. She swallowed roughly, her mouth tasting of blood.

"What?"

"You're bleeding." Concern drifted into his voice. Finally, something she could recognize. "This is stupid. You're going to get hurt."

Shepard groaned. And then he shut her out again. It was a stalling tactic. He was avoiding the issue and even with a possible concussion, she about to drop it. In fact, playing her weaknesses against her was starting to irritate her. Couldn't he just be direct? What the hell was wrong with him?

"Fuck you, don't change the subject. You're just worried I'm going to scratch up the floor with your scaly ass." She pushed him away; her harsh words set to distract him from her dizziness. She willed herself to her feet. If he couldn't come out and say it, she'd push harder. "You've been an unbearable asshole for the past week. You really want Sidonis that badly, we can head back and get him," she said. It was the closest thing to an apology that she could muster right now. "But you have to tell me what crawled up your ass and died."

Garrus laughed in her face. "Trust me, _Commander_. You don't want to know."

The title burned like poison and she grimaced. This was worse than Grunt or Jack and Garrus knew better. "No, fuck you Garrus. You don't get to tell me what I don't want to know. You want rub my rank in my face. Fine. Tell me what the hell Thane did to set you off. That's a goddamned order, _Officer_ _Vakarian_." He wanted to roleplay, fine she could do that. She'd already tried corporal punishment.

But when he only stared at her, that same tension in his shoulders, that same blank mask in place of a real expression, she threw herself at him, achieving enough height to kick him in the chest. Corporal punishment it was then. He fell and her foot hurt, but damnit, if she had to beat a straight answer out of him, she'd do it for both their sakes.

Even if she had the disadvantage on the ground, she charged ahead, hoping he'd stay down. Instead he clotheslined her with one arm and almost instantly, he was sitting on her stomach, holding her flailing wrists above her head. His limbs were long and slender, curved like scimitars. She winced as his knee dug into her side.

"I don't want to talk about it," he announced, and stuck like she was, she didn't have a surefire method of making him obey.

"Yeah, I bet you don't." Frustration overwhelmed her and then his bony sharp knee was pressed against her tender floating ribs. She held back a torrent of curses, both from the pain and the frustration of dealing with a hardheaded turian.

"You're hurt."

She could feel the frown in his voice. It didn't matter. They could slap some medigel on later; this needed to sort this first. "Me? Ha! You've barely touched me," she said, running on bravado now.

He poked her injured side with his knee and she spasmed under him, biting back any cry of pain. She glared at him through pain-dimmed eyes and but he wasn't looking. His fingers trailed gently over the skin of her bared stomach. She swallowed roughly, something about the intensity of his concentration made her squirm.

This was Garrus. He was just making sure she was OK. No reason to get hot and bothered. This really wasn't the time.

He growled her name, shaking her from her reverie.

"We're not done, Garrus." She tried to sit up, but he held her there against the cool mats and Shepard fought not to succumb to the comfort of just lying there. She needed to fix whatever was between them. Chakwas or Mordin could patch her up later.

"I'll tell you what you want to know, if you'll stop this and get some medical attention…and tell me where it hurts." He was grim and she bit back a triumphant smile. Persistence and brute force worked where diplomacy failed. She might not have won the fight, but this was enough.

The look on his face was so bleak, she had to laugh. Maybe he really was going to cut the bullshit and be honest with her. That's all that mattered. She pursed her lips, eyes on him. She hoped he wasn't going to try to weasel out of this.

He looked away, almost shamefaced, and for one heart wrenching second Shepard believed he was going to lie to her face. "Thane wants to pursue you."

She repeated the words in her head, turning them over, trying to make them fit. She'd been expecting something like "not only did Sidonis kill my men, but he raped my puppy." She'd expected him to express some sort of devastating disappointment in her leadership. This was…she wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

"He-what?" Pursue? Thane was an assassin. Though he'd always been so pleasant and maybe a little flirty, but was that some sort of cover? Was he trying to kill her?

"Thane has more than friendly feelings for you," Garrus clarified, staring off into the distance.

Shepard's head spun a bit and she adjusted her thought process. OK, so Thane had been very attentive, and she'd had the sneaking suspicion his feelings went beyond simple gratitude, but he'd never tried to push for anything. How did Garrus fit into…? "And so you punched him? Because of that?" she asked. Her overtaxed brain needed time to process all this.

"No. Yes. It's complicated."

Garrus released her hands and sat back, still crouching over her like he was half afraid she'd go for his throat.

She wanted to laugh. They'd been acting like school children because Thane wanted to hold her hand and Garrus was defending her honor because, well because…

The turian cleared his throat and stared at the ground, clearly uncomfortable.

And then it hit her harder than a turian headbutt.

_Oh. _

So much for having a clear grasp of where the crew was at. Shepard swallowed, now very aware of the fact she'd been rolling around with him in her underwear. Garrus's markings looked bluer than usual and she could feel her heartbeat in her head. Warmth spread through her body and he made no move to get off her.

"It's complicated, huh?" The words were thick and she tried to sound calm. Was she misinterpreting everything? Apparently she could never be too sure when it came to Garrus.

He moved forward languidly, his hands settling on either side of her head. She tensed beneath him, feeling his breath tickle the bare flesh of her neck. The sharp edges of his mouth brushed lightly against her cheek.

She reached out, and he flinched. He pulled away, eyes darting between the ground and her face. Shepard carefully tilted his chin up, keeping her gaze on his. He shuddered above her. Her other hand slid up around his neck, caressing the leathery soft skin. He turned into it, closing his eyes at the contact.

"I'm Shepard. You're Garrus. There's nothing you can't tell me," she said, her heart in her throat. It fluttered there, and she was struck by the sheer relief on his features. The plates of his cowl were rough and textured, but not too sharp to touch.

"You don't need to humor me, Shepard. Thane's physiology is much closer to your own, and unlike Jacob he's not Cerberus's lapdog. He'd follow you to the ends of the universe if you let him." Garrus's voice was wistful and he'd stopped looking at her.

"I-"

"I'll be fine, Shepard." He was talking quickly now, looking unnaturally intrigued by a stack of crates. "Really. Relieved actually. I think I just needed to get all that off my chest and now we can go back to the way things were before…" Panic edged his words and he tried to draw away. Words continued to flow out of his mouth, but she wasn't listening any more. Here was her out. She could pat him on the back, pretend this never happened, and keep her clothes on when around him.

Except he was Garrus. She was Shepard, and she couldn't quite think of a reason to object to any of it. There was no one else she'd rather have covering her six. And when he wasn't talking to her, she'd been miserable. And she couldn't deny there was something intriguing about those dangerous turian bodies. Not that she was a raging omnisexual xenophile or anything. The thought made her snort.

"Shepard, please. I know you're shocked and I swear it won't interfere with the mission." His head was bowed and his fists clenched at his sides.

"Garrus…" Now his name felt strange on her lips and she tried to smile at him.

* * *

It wasn't a kiss, because turians didn't do it quite like humans did and he didn't want to hurt her, but he tried, like he saw in the vids. She stayed frozen beneath him for a moment, and then her hands came up stroking his face and neck. But her silence stretched on far too long, tugging at his chest.

"I'm Shepard. You're Garrus. There's nothing you can't tell me." The words comforted him. She wasn't appalled. She didn't hate him.

He began to babble, telling her all the reasons why it probably wouldn't work. He even talked up Thane, intent on letting her know that if it was her decision, he could abide by it. Thane wasn't so bad. At least it wasn't Jacob or any of the Cerberus lackeys. "I don't want to risk you going into anaphylactic shock. And there's that whole social stigma as well…"

She still wasn't talking but her hands stayed on his neck and he wasn't about to reject the consolation of her touch. She probably didn't realize he was doing it and …"Shepard, please. I know you're shocked and I swear it won't interfere with the mission."

"Garrus…" her voice was gentle and he winced, waiting for the final blow to come. "Garrus, I didn't say no." One hand, gun-calloused, but still softer than his, traveled up to this metal-plated cheek. The sensation only partially registered but he exhaled, something like peace settling in chest.

"You're not just-"

"Garrus." His name was a command and he stayed there, eyes locked to hers. She looked straight at him, through the bullshit, the scars, the thick turian plating… Even if he was sitting on top of her and she wasn't wearing any armor, he was more vulnerable than he'd ever been. Even if she wasn't aware of it, and Garrus had the nagging feeling Shepard was, she held all the power.

Maybe she always did.

"I uh…I never knew you had a weakness for men with scars," he quipped. His best response to unspoken trust and soul-searing intimacy was humor. He wanted to do more, but his hands stayed frozen at his sides.

Her laugh was high-pitched, almost like Kelly's and he frowned at the comparison. "Oh yes. I had such a hard time choosing between Wrex and Zaeed, but then you went and stopped a missile with your face. Missile totally beats claws and bullets. How could I resist?"

"You're a hard woman to impress, Shepard." He absently stroked her throat, still perched over her hips. He could feel her pulse in his fingertips. He leaned in, careful as he brushed his forehead against hers.

Her wiggly pink darted out, moistening her lips and her heartbeat thundered against his knuckles. He stiffened as she pressed her lips against his mouth, carefully at first, tracing the sharp edges of his mouth. She ran her fingers against his mandibles, moving back to his head fringe. His mandibles flared and he closed his eyes, savoring the sensations running through his crest.

"How does that feel?" she asked.

"I like it," he said, and brushed her hair out of her face. The strands glided between his fingers, but disappointment grew when she didn't react.

"Human hair doesn't have any nerve endings. Though if you pull it, I might have to punch you," she said lightly.

"I see." He tugged on it and laughed when she smacked his hand away.

"You're the one who crashed into my ribs. You're in enough trouble as it is," Shepard grumbled. "Do you really want to start more?" As soon as the words came out of her mouth she winced. "Ah shit. I didn't mean-"

Garrus grimaced, the moment broken. There was a very pressing reason why they were down in the cargo hold in the first place. He vaguely remembered brushing up against Shepard in the mess hall at breakneck speeds while wearing heavy armor. His heart sank. She didn't need to be down here with him, right now. Not like this. Hastily disentangling himself from her, Garrus stood. He still had to face Thane. He needed to decide what to do about Sidonis. Of all the outcomes he prepared for, he didn't have a contingency plan for this situation. Some tactical genius he was.

Shepard slowly climbed to her feet, her expression questioning.

He tried to think of something to say. "You should see Chakwas or Mordin. They're probably both still on board waiting for you to bring my component parts, so uh, they can put me back together. We can talk later." He laughed nervously at her blank expression. Groping for words, he said what came naturally. "I uh…I need to do some calibrations."

And with that, the Hero of the Citadel, Archangel of Omega, Turian-Agent Extraordinaire, grabbed his armor, turned tail, and ran.

* * *

_Calibrations?_

She should have been annoyed, but an almost relieved laugh bubbled up in her chest.

Calibrations. Right. He was never going to live that one down. Shepard chuckled, surprised at how pleased she was. Garrus didn't hate her. They'd beaten the crap out of each other and it managed to turn into something like kissing. Then she'd had to go say something stupid and he'd taken off, obviously uncomfortable with the entire situation. Way to be perceptive, Shepard. She didn't exactly have a turian fetish, but Garrus was Garrus and the more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea. She pulled her shirt back on in the elevator, marveling at just how sore unarmored combat left her.

But for the machinery and her own footsteps, the Normandy was silent. Even EDI wasn't over her shoulder spouting facts and figures. With the adrenaline waning, she hurt all over: her head, her hands, her ribs. She didn't think she could name all the places that ached.

Getting off on the third floor, she looked around, half-expecting to see the crew huddled in corners, gossiping about the brawl. To her relief, the mess was empty. She limped to med bay, trying to ignore the state of the mess hall. Gardner would shit a brick once the terror waned. And then she'd hear about it and he'd be cooking inedible garbage just to spite them.

Chakwas and Mordin sat in the med bay, looking suspiciously busy. A familiar sweetness hung in the air and Shepard sniffed once or twice just be certain. Serrice ice brandy. She glanced around, noting two glasses shoved haphazardly behind a stack of datapads.

She didn't want to know. It could have been completely innocent – she'd always though Chakwas and Gardner had something going on – but after today's earth-shattering revelation, she wasn't taking anything for granted.

"Ah, Shepard, glad you're still mobile. Saw Garrus limping up here. Loaded him down with plenty of medigel. Assumed you didn't injure him too badly."

Shepard grimaced as she sat down, letting Mordin prod her side. "He walked back on his own, didn't he?"

"…Commander, are you-?" Dr. Chakwas was at her side, medigel and gauze in hand.

"I'm fine. Really. Think I have some bruised ribs. Maybe a concussion. Minor scrapes and bruises. Nothing to worry about." Shepard held still as Dr. Chakwas swabbed her forehead, clucking her tongue in disapproval.

"No serious lacerations or puncture wounds," Mordin observed and Shepard wondered how a skinny salarian neck would feel between her fingers.

"How's Thane?"

"A few minor contusions. Nothing to worry about. He's in life support…meditating," Dr. Chakwas said carefully. "He seemed very calm about the whole thing." Dr. Chakwas nimbly avoided mentioning anything too distressing. Shepard appreciated it.

"They were both wound a little too tightly. I think it's settled now," Shepard dismissed, unwilling to explain the nature of the conflict. "I'll have a word with Thane after we're done here."

Chakwas regarded her sternly. "Will that 'word' you have with Thane be anything like the one you had with Garrus?"

"Err…no, I hope not," Shepard winced as Mordin poked her in the cheek, muttering to himself.

"Drell not as excitable as turians. Years of mental discipline behind Thane. Situation should be stable." The salarian doctor glanced at Chakwas, inclining his head to the left. "Need to patch you up before you go have words with anyone."

Plotting her next course of action, Shepard sat there thoughtfully; barely cognizant of the fuss Mordin and Chakwas were putting up.

* * *

Standing in the threshold of Life Support, Garrus tilted his head back and reminded himself of his turian honor. There was shame in lashing out against a comrade. Even if Shepard didn't plan on punishing him for it (or maybe she did- he found his ability to predict her action slipping away all too quickly), it was his responsibility to make things right.

It helped that Shepard had kissed _him_ in the cargo bay.

"Kr- Thane."

The drell was sitting in his usual spot, back to the door. He didn't turn around when Garrus spoke.

There was an awful moment of silence where Garrus thought Thane would just ignore him. That he would leave him to stand there awkwardly, ostracized and ashamed. That, he decided, would be far worse than being punched, or kicked, or whatever deadly hanar techniques the drell might have learned.

"You've been there for awhile," Thane croaked. "I assume you weren't planning a stealth attack."

"You know me; I'm a bigger fan of sniper rifles, really." Garrus looked behind him, making sure Shepard wasn't right there. He was tense enough. "May I come in?" Manners gave him an opening and for the first time in ages, he was grateful for a meaningless formality.

"Yes." Thane stood and Garrus stepped in, the doors whooshing shut behind him. Thane gazed at him expectantly, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. The drell's massive eyes were on him, and he decided letting Thane deck him – as in holding still and asking for it – might be preferable to a verbal sort of apology. But what was quicker and easier wasn't always better, a hard lesson Shepard kept having to re-teach him.

"I…I was out of line," Garrus inhaled. "Even if you weren't your usual eloquent self, I should not have-"

"I hold no grudge. I baited you. It was petty thing, but necessary." Thane looked Garrus over, his face blank.

"Necessary?" Garrus frowned, wondering if this was going to be round two. What was this, pick-a-fight-with-the-turian day?

"If you hadn't have reacted, I would have judged that your feelings for…Commander Shepard were not as strong as I initially assumed." He gave a half-shrug. "My actions seem to have clarified matters. For everyone."

Garrus wasn't surprised that Thane overlooked his apology; it was the clean confession of his culpability. "You orchestrated this? You wanted me to punch you?"

"…No." Thane had the grace to look somewhat sheepish. "While it did occur to me that you might not react well, I thought the chances of violence were…slim. A miscalculation on my part." The drell's lips curved upward in a wry grin. "It was not my intention to cause such an uproar."

So it was some kind of test? "But-"

"She trusts you. She depends on you. You have a history that I have no part of, and a future that I cannot guarantee." Thane turned his back to Garrus.

Garrus crossed his arms, processing Thane's confession. The entire thing was sneaky and underhanded – not surprising for a professional assassin – but strangely honorable. Thane was far more devious than he looked, and he had _style._

"It seems, judging by your demeanor, that you and Commander Shepard have already made your peace. The situation is clear. Her eyes are on another. I would not dream of complicating matters." Thane sounded nonchalant, calm even, and Garrus wondered if he just didn't understand drell vocal cues. Dumbstruck, he rubbed his chin. Still waters ran dangerously deep. He didn't pretend to understand Thane's thinking. Having eidetic memory probably gave one a radically different worldview.

"Yes, I think so."

"Then you have my…" The pause stretched on for an uncomfortable eternity. "…You have my congratulations."

"Thank you." Garrus could not imagine what it cost the other man to say what he did. He knew that if their roles were reversed he could not have been nearly so civil. Guilt weighed on his conscience but he couldn't think of anything that would make the circumstances better. "Back there…you…uh, you got me real good a couple times."

"I know," Thane said with a trace of smugness and Garrus had the sneaking suspicion that maybe the assassin didn't regret the fight as much as he claimed.

* * *

Shepard stood outside the med bay rubbing her side. It was a little tender, but the combination of Dr. Chakwa's expertise, Mordin's genius, and Cerberus's cybernetic implants had done wonders on her body.

"Shepard, wanted a word with you," Mordin skittered over to her. "Noticed tension between you and Officer Vakarian. Have forwarded relevant information to your private terminal. Also have epinephrine sticks should there be an allergic reaction. Unsure of effect of turian tissue on your unique system. Chance of anaphylactic shock. Would not ingest. Size difference, chafing, and turian mating rituals also pose risk to health. Have had appropriate ointments, salves, and lubricants delivered to your quarters. Dr. Chakwas and I will be leaving now. Would suggest disabling surveillance equipment in cargo hold should you decide to return there with Officer Vakarian."

Her brain raced to keep up with Mordin's speech. Suddenly Mordin's earlier advice made sense. Did everyone else know but her? By the time she realized exactly how detailed his diatribe was, Mordin and Chakwas were in the elevator and out of strangling range.

Shepard pinched the bridge of her nose, wondering if anyone aboard this ship minded their own business. Taking a few deep breaths, she headed down to Life Support.

To her the air wasn't noticeably drier, but Thane seemed to prefer it, or maybe he just liked the privacy it afforded. She entered, turning over words in her head. Thane sat in his usual seat, hands clasped on the table in front of him.

"Do you have a minute to talk?"

"I always have time for you, _si_-Shepard." He inclined his head back and she took it as an invitation. Pulling up a chair, she seated herself in front of him.

"How are you doing?"

"I'm fine. Ashamed of my behavior," he rumbled. Even if he was alien to her, Thane still managed to sound truly regretful.

"Is there anything about the fight that you want to tell me?" Shepard worded her questions very carefully. Given what Garrus had revealed, she wondered if she was the best person to handle this. She'd dealt with situations like this before, but she genuinely liked Thane and had things been different maybe… She gnawed on her lip, stopping her train of thought. There was no point dwelling on what-ifs. After Horizon (And Omega. And Virmire. And Eden Prime.) she had done enough of that. She was the commander, if she didn't handle this, who would?

"I assume Garrus explained it to you?" Thane said, as if it were natural to believe the other party would give a fair account.

"He told me about some of it, yes." She arched a brow. "He swung first."

"And missed," Thane said with a small smile that seemed uncharacteristically satisfied. "But we have things settled now, Shepard. I am content to accept whatever consequences you have decided."

Shepard quashed the questions that floated to the surface. They were unprofessional and given the circumstances, she had no right to ask. His calm humility was a shield, and she refused to pry. "You're both restricted from shore leave. I want the mess hall cleaned and I want you to do it together. As you might have been…injured in the confrontation, I'll give you time to clean up and rest. I want you out there at 0400 tomorrow."

Thane bowed his head. "As you wish."

Shepard lingered there a moment longer, but Thane didn't look up.

"Thank you," she said, because _I'm sorry _would have done no good.

He put his hand over hers, squeezing her fingers lightly and looked at her face. Shepard wondered how he would recall this moment, and then decided it was better not to think about it.

* * *

Garrus studied his omni-tool, almost wishing he had perfect recall. Shepard kissed him. She even let him be on top, not that he wasn't used to being on top, but she was Shepard and he had a hard time imagining her as anything but in charge.

That wasn't true. He'd had a fantasy or two about a hotheaded C-Sec officer overstepping his bounds and apprehending a roguish Spectre. She would have to be restrained, and interrogated of course. And if she escaped to take revenge on him, so much the better. His pants constricted and he shook his head. This was not helpful. His hasty exit might have set them back, if there was even a "them" to contemplate.

"Officer Vakarian…Commander Shepard requests your presence in the cargo hold. She has also turned off all surveillance equipment in that partition of the ship." Somehow he doubted having EDI tell Shepard that he was still working on calibrations would do much good. Either Shepard was going to talk about Sidonis or she was going to talk about "them." Both prospects were equally terrifying for very different reasons.

He wore his armor. It was comfortingly familiar and it occurred to him that once he confessed the dark thoughts that flitted through his mind while watching Shepard through the scope of his rifle, he might need it.

Shepard was stretching on the mats. She was barefoot wearing that tight black bra and equally form-fitting black shorts. She lay on her stomach, one leg bent in an arc over her back. Her toes nearly touched her shoulder. The other leg was flat on the ground, taut and lean.

His mouth was suddenly very dry and his plating started to shift. His shaft was hardening and he forced himself to look away.

"Garrus." She looked up at him, a small smile raising the corners of her mouth.

"I uh…"

"You done calibrating?" She teased, and proceeded to stretch her other leg. He watched, entranced. Smooth and long, they bent differently than his, sparking thoughts of testing her flexibility.

"Yes." And he was grateful she let it go so easily. "Things are…sorted between Thane and I. And…" He loathed to bring up Sidonis, not when he had Shepard here, in front of him, all lithe and limber.

She released her leg, and sat up. Her hair was down and he found himself staring at her navel. She was so smooth and delicate. Despite the obvious muscle definition, her skin seemed uniform, no ridges or plates. The sharp bits were in her mouth and on the tips of her fingers and toes. They were very different.

"I…crossed the line in my pursuit of Sidonis." He opened his mouth, and she stood, her waist accentuated by the curves of her hips and breasts.

"I know." There was no judgment there, only acknowledgement. "But in the end, you were able to control it."

"Only because you were there. I wanted to-" he struggled with confession. He owed Shepard the honesty, but was he just sabotaging himself?

"I know. You looked like you wanted to rip my head off. I figured I wasn't your favorite person right about then."

"It-"

Shepard waved her hand. "Oh, I'm pissed off too. You've been nearly unbearable for the past week. Surly, irritable, Saren-like even." His eyes narrowed at that comparison, but he couldn't quite deny the accuracy of the statement. "You've got half my crew terrified of the color blue."

"Can you blame me? What would you do if someone betrayed you?"

* * *

A/N:

OK, so I lied. I really thought it was going to be three parts, and then plot threads threatened to strangle me and I relented. Four parts. Really, I mean it this time. Really.

_I'm just savoring the last shot before popping the heat sink._

…And that is not the metaphor I should be using. I need to finish this.

I was tempted to skip the character development/minor plot resolutions and skip straight to the smexing, but I kind of like how some of these scenes worked themselves out. Personally I feel like maybe some of the chemistry lost momentum when I made took a break for *gasp* story-crap, but…yeah. That stuff isn't meant to be filler, though when I look back, part of me feels like it is. (That part also says "there must only be hot!turian sexytime" and probably needs a cold shower.) There was a flaw in my construction plan (this thing got huge!) and I didn't have a way to go back and fix it. At least one that made sense to me. (Rough hard Garrus smex while injured just seemed kind of painful. Plus I didn't want to write all about surprise anaphylactic shock.) So I think I made a mistake. Still, I don't think it warrants going back and rewriting the whole thing.

I thought I'd dislike the fact I sometimes write the same scene from a different perspective. (That always seemed kind of cheap to me.) But I think Garrus and Shepard have different enough viewpoints and concerns to make it worthwhile.

/self-critique

On a sicker note, I've noticed some interesting prompts on the masskink meme. I'm now in the mood for reading/writing something dark. Loved some of the vicious SarenxShepard hate!sex. Dominance/hate/lust is sexy. *hangs head in shame*

Some of those were damn well written. If it was one of you, do it again!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thank you for all the encouraging comments. I'm glad people are enjoying this. I would like to say that no one has actually said the things I posted in the last chapter, verbatim. The issues were brought up and I over exaggerated to be funny...but I might have failed. Everyone has been very polite and I was just kind of writing that for fun?

This chapter has...not child-friendly bits. Seriously.

The Bioware social network has the Garrus Love and Adoration Thread.

Masskink is on lj.

Disclaimer: Just playing in Bioware's sandbox.

* * *

Shepard wished she was certain that the "right" answer was the same as the honest one.

"What would you do if someone betrayed you?" The question echoed across time and Shepard remembered things Garrus wasn't privy to – the sour taste of treachery and her own bittersweet revenge. This was the question she had dreaded. It had taken a long time to weigh her answers beforehand, knowing it would come up. She took a deep breath.

"I don't know, but I wouldn't let it change me."

And she hoped that was the truth.

Subtle emotions were nearly impossible to read on Garrus's face, especially after the gunship incident. He crossed his arms, closing his eyes, and Shepard had not a clue what was going through his spiky head.

They stood there, the ghosts of Omega between them.

"You're tense." Shepard spoke first, slowly, reflecting on her recent reading. "Mordin says he hooked you up with medigel, and I'm patched up – good as new. Do you want spar?"

"And ruin all the hard work Mordin and Chakwas did?" Garrus asked dryly. He flexed his fingers, mandibles twitching "Why not?"

The armor came off again. She watched closely this time, noting the lines and planes of his body. He was sleek and deadly and oh so different than what she was used to. Her mind briefly wandered back to Mordin's extensive diagrams. She would do what she could to make him comfortable. Mordin's notes had been exceptionally enlightening, scarily so. While she believed him when he claimed salarians just didn't have sex drives, she did wonder just where he got all this detailed knowledge about the sexual behavior of other species.

Fornax, she decided, and promptly left it at that.

Garrus circled her warily, his gloves and boots staying on. There was something about the way he moved outside the armor – he was a natural predator, sleek and deadly. The aesthetics appealed to her and she moved with him now, counting on his natural impatience to impel him forward.

He didn't disappoint. He feinted a strike at her face, and when she shifted her weight to pull away, his leg shot out, catching her flat in the stomach. She staggered back, cursing softly because how could she forget just how long his reach was?

She hit him with a palm strike, glancing off his neck because she couldn't quite get in close enough to take him down. He seized her wrist, clutching it tightly in his three-fingered hand. Shepard tried to wrench away, work his joints against him, but he beat her to it, twisting her arm so that she flipped onto her back. She landed hard.

Her leg shot out and she kicked him, even as he brought the fight to the floor. Garrus ground his hips against her, using his body to hold her down. His skin was hot, and the plating around his limbs was hard, but from his waist to the inside of his thighs, there was more give.

Drawing her knees up, she pressed her feet flat against his chest and kicked. Turian balance wasn't quite like human balance – their legs bent to different angles and the armored collar made them just a little top-heavy. He was heavier than he looked and she grunted as she sent him careening backward. Staying on the ground was a surefire way to lose and she rolled backward on her shoulders, trying to keep a safe distance between them while she formulated another approach.

* * *

Though an intimate practice, Garrus was rapidly becoming accustomed to sparring with Shepard. Limited purely to hand-to-hand combat, it was unlikely she could win. But she struck hard and played for keeps. He might have been tired, but now it seemed like all her hits were directed at his soft underbelly. Where before she had hit almost haphazardly – his head, his chest, the rim of his collar, now she centered on the weaker points – the inside of his collar, the backs of his legs, and his pelvic region. Had she taken the time to research turian anatomy between bouts?

She tried to flank him, zigging and zagging while he lashed out in measured strokes.

"Come on Garrus," she grinned fiercely, flashing teeth. "Are we fighting or are we dancing?"

"That's what everyone asked the last time you were at Flux, Shepard. No one's toes were safe."

The taunt worked and she spun, almost like dancing, one leg high in the air. He caught her foot in his face and she laughed, loud and clear.

"That's big talk for a turian who spent the night huddled in the corner, terrified some big bad asari was going to ask him to dance." She dodged his counterattack and glided off to the side. Her banter was good-natured, lacking any poisonous edge, but Garrus suspected she'd called him down to spar for other reasons. Maybe she was still determined to beat answers out him, answers that he didn't have just yet. Sidonis's visage lingered in his mind and he lashed out, his strike glancing off Shepard's shoulder. She swore and jerked backward. Staring at him suspiciously, her face hardened and she bared her teeth at him.

The fire in her eyes, the way her lips curled in aggression, it made the softer parts of him hard. Turian love was a dangerous thing and he wondered if Shepard knew just how much she affected him.

Maybe she was secretly angry at him, for leaving her to do _calibrations._

Calibrations. Smooth, Garrus. Real smooth.

"Come on, _Archangel_." Her hands dropped to her hips, brushing against her waist, lingering on the bare skin. His tongue felt thick in his mouth and he was sure she was baiting him now. Nerves frayed ragged, he tried not to react to her goading.

"Make me." There was steel in his sharp-toothed smile and he growled as she bounded forward. He didn't bother to brace himself, Shepard didn't weigh that much. She dropped into a crouch and while his mind tried to make sense of her actions she crashed into his legs. His knees buckled and he went down. Shepard was fast and before he had a chance to react, she'd flipped him onto his stomach.

One arm was pinned under him, and the other was behind his back. He grimaced as she straddled his lower back, pinning his arm under her warm smooth thighs. Her breath tickled the side of his face as she leaned over his shoulder, her breasts rubbing against his cowl.

"You turians aren't so tough," she murmured.

He squirmed, enjoying the feel of her soft body pressed so tightly against his back. The heat of skin contact was hard to resist, so he didn't fight her, not yet.

Something hard clamped against the back of his neck and he grunted in surprise. Pain, and something more electric shot through his system. Shepard's soft laughter drifted through the air. She'd bitten him, he realized, dazed. A rumble sounded under his collar, an involuntary reaction. He felt her lips brushing up and down his neck, alternately nipping and lapping at the more sensitive flesh.

He threw his head back, muscles tight as she toyed with him. One hand strayed to his fringe, and she ran her fingers up and down the spikes, making him groan.

"You're purring," she said, sounding pleased with herself.

"What do you think you're doing, Shepard?" he growled, his voice harsher than he meant for it sound.

"You're a smart boy, Garrus. You tell me." The wicked playfulness of her tone made him shudder. She ran her fingers along the hollow of his throat. He leaned back into her touch, trying to hold still, to let her explore slowly. And than she sank her teeth into the base of his neck much harder than before. Heat and desire shot straight down his spine. He roared, his voice hoarse with something other than pain. He jerked off the ground, lifting himself with one arm.

Shepard tumbled off his back landing on her own, and he now he was on top and she was trapped against the ground. His shaft twitched, having emerged from its protective plating. He pressed against her hips, her soft flesh molding against him.

She blinked, maybe a little stunned from the fall, and he pinned her wrists to the mat, holding her down with one hand. The other traced lightly against her soft exposed neck. She sighed, closing her eyes as he ran his gloved hand across her collarbones. They were so small, offering no protection to the expanse of her throat.

"You bit me, Shepard," he growled. "Now what am I going to do with you?"

* * *

"You should be grateful that I don't have big pointy turian teeth." She licked her lips, smiling up at him, purposefully displaying her lack thereof. His countenance was severe, that of harsh concentration, and the knowledge that it was reserved solely for her made her shiver.

"You should be grateful that I have excellent control," he countered, his voice dropping an octave. He leaned in, her breath hitching as he flicked his tongue along the side of her neck. The muscle was gray and cylindrical, rather than pink and flat and she whined softly as he licked the contour of her ear.

"Do you?" And she squirmed, unable to resist wondering just what would happen if he lost said control.

"Why don't you find out?"

He slipped his coarser tongue into her mouth, letting her suck on the tip. He tasted like vaguely like metal and spice and she moaned as his free hand ran across the fabric of her bra. He tweaked it, causing her breasts to bounce and Shepard stifled a cry.

Even if he didn't have lips, she could see the satisfied smirk on Garrus's face as he pulled back. Her nipples poked through the fabric of her sports bra and he rubbed each sensitive tip with those strong fingers, pinching and pulling lightly. His hooded gaze stayed on her face. She strained against his grip, but all she succeeded in doing was wriggling against his hips. Something hard and hot rubbed against the inside of her thighs and she bit her lip, the slew of sensations threatening to overwhelm her.

"You like this?" he asked, his tone too rough to be teasing.

She nodded, her breath coming in shuddering gasps.

"Say it, Shepard," he ordered.

"Make me." Her lips drew back in a snarl that could have been a smile. She arched her back, wrapping her legs around his waist, her thighs resting in the bony crook of his hips. He was hard all over, and she dug her heels into his flank, pulling him to her.

Turian mating was innately rough, though according to Mordin's notes their tastes had expanded since encountering the asari. Judging by his careful kisses, Garrus had some idea of how to treat a non-turian.

The hand not holding her wrists went to his mouth. He delicately took the glove between his sharp teeth and pulled it off. He spat the reinforced fabric off the side, baring his sharp taloned fingers.

Shepard swallowed slowly, staring at his dull gray claws. There was something very primal about being under him with his dangerous body. Casually, he reached under her bra, one finger hooking the elastic, and tore it straight down the middle. Her pert breasts jiggled slightly and she tried to hold still as he cut the rest of the fabric off.

Wordlessly, he leaned in, flicking his hot wet tongue against the sensitive flesh. Shepard closed her eyes, trembling as he rolled his hips. Panting, she bit back a moan as he alternated between pinching and tonguing her nipples. She was wet now, the insides of her thighs sticky and hot. His breathing was harder now, and she relished the feel of his weight on her.

And then he stopped. She bucked her hips, trying to bring him closer, but he stayed firm. Aching, Shepard threw her shoulders back, trying to encourage him to keep going.

"What's wrong, Shepard?" He sounded smug as he leaned in, very carefully nipping her shoulder.

"You stopped, you bastard," she growled. The bite stung, but then he started laving at the mark with his tongue and she sighed.

"Oh? Were you enjoying it?" He laughed, low and rough. "I didn't know. Why didn't you say something?"

"I was really enjoying it, you tease," she barked, propping herself up on her elbows.

"Tease? I'm not the one who lures impressionable young C-Sec officers onto her ship and wrestles with them in her underwear."

Shepard snorted, glaring up at him. He looked entirely too satisfied with himself and she moistened her lips.

"You make such cute little noises when I touch you," he grinned, radiating masculine pride. He brushed his forehead against hers. "I wonder what kind of noises you'll make when I fuck you."

Shepard shivered, running her hands up the bony ridges of his chest. After his earlier shyness, hearing such dirty talk came as a shock - not that she was complaining. It stirred something inside her and she wasn't going deny just how hot it was.

"Why don't you find out?" She stared up at him, hoping he'd rise to her challenge.

* * *

He was deceiving himself. When Shepard had started making those high-pitched noises in the back of her throat, his control had begun to slip and now it was going rapidly, spiraling away in a torrent of nerves and skin. He wanted to be careful this time – he worried about hurting her. He wanted to take it easy on her, even if she was the great and glorious Commander Shepard.

But she kept pushing, goading him, and after months of pent of frustration – combat only took the edge off – he needed more than a sweet gentle tumble.

She smelled fresh and clean – her skin tinged with a pleasant scent that he couldn't identify. And she tasted different, saltier than an asari and indescribably alien. It wasn't unpleasant.

"Off –" she said eloquently, tugging at the form-fitting bodysuit he wore. When he didn't strip immediately, she began trying to tear at it, her soft blunt fingers pressing into his carapace.

He pried her fingers off, and broke her leg lock, still settled in front of her. She sat there, legs spread invitingly, resting her elbows on her knees. Smirking, he pushed her gently and she fell back, a little surprised. He yanked at the waistband of her shorts and she grumbled, but obligingly raised her hips. He tossed the flimsy fabric off to the side and frowned as Shepard drew her knees up to her chest and grinned at him cheekily.

"If you show me yours, I'll show you mine," she said, giving him a pointed look.

Garrus regarded her silently. If he stripped now, he was going to throw her down and take her right then. He ached to bury himself inside her, but he wasn't sure if she was ready to for that yet. The vids had been very specific about humans needing more foreplay.

He grasped her ankles and pulled up. She rewarded him with an outraged squeal as he brought her to him. He squeezed her butt, resting her knees over his elbows. She was left balancing on her shoulders, arms propped back for support.

Shepard's lightly muscled torso appealed to him. Her waist wasn't quite as slim as a turian female's, but she was soft and pliable all over and when he licked the dimple on her stomach – a navel it was called – she gave a cry of frustration.

His tongue lapped a path down. She had a small patch of hair down there – it was a curious thing, something the asari didn't have.

"Garrus," she moaned, through gritted teeth.

He liked the way she said his name. He intended to drag it from her lips again. Her thighs were wet and he carefully licked them, blowing lightly on her sex.

"Damnit!" she swore some more. "Please don't tease me!" Her begging brought a rumble from his chest and he grinned as she twitched. His tongue glided over the puffy lips and the little nub human women seemed to make such a big fuss over. The vids and instructional materials had been most detailed about what to do here.

Shepard arched, a wail emanating from her throat.

He loved how sensitive she was. She tasted oddly sweet and musky. She tried to push against him, but he didn't loosen his grip on her hips. Inside she was very hot and very wet and he pushed his tongue, feeling her constrict around him. He found the spot inside her and she struggled harder, making those delicious keening sounds.

"Nyah…" Nonsense poured from Shepard's lips as he savored her pleas and arousal.

* * *

Where did he learn to-? Shepard whipped her head back, fingers digging into the mats. She couldn't get any leverage as he knelt in front of her steadily licking her. His tongue was thick inside her, stroking her g-spot with enthusiasm and frequently bumped against her clit, sending rough shockwaves through her core.

She cursed and cajoled, the tension between her thighs coiling tighter and tighter. She didn't have any control over his rhythm and the helplessness turned her on more. Her cries muffled wet sound of his flesh against hers. It occurred to her that they were doing this in the cargo bay where anyone could walk in and suddenly his tongue was no longer inside her and he was laving at her clit, and damnit she couldn't focus any more, the sensation was too intense and it was all too much and –

White light exploded behind her lids and she spasmed, shaking in his arms.

Her breathing came ragged and harsh, and she barely registered it as he gently set her down. When he kissed her – tongue invading her mouth – she tasted herself on him and she groaned, nipping at his mandibles.

"How was that?" he asked, preening.

"Like you don't already know the answer," she murmured weakly and he laughed. When she could form a coherent thought, she had to ask. "Have you done that before?"

Garrus shrugged. "Not on a human." He regarded her carefully. "Is that a problem?"

"Nope. No complaints here. Just…wow." A silly grin crossed her face. "But you're still wearing too much."

Garrus chuckled. "Such a taskmaster-"

She sat up, her legs were jelly, but he was close enough that she could find the fastenings. She fumbled a few times and he helped her peel the suit off.

Shepard had seen a several clinical pictures of naked turians. Mordin's diagrams had been very detailed. His entire body was covered with hard plates, but he wasn't stone-hard all over. His skin burned fever-hot under fingers, and he was suddenly held very still as she hovered over his erection.

Size-wise it was comparable to a human's – bigger than most but nothing that looked impossible. It was curved slightly, and gray-blue, and covered in bumps and ridges. Shepard gulped, imagining just how good they would feel inside her.

"Is there something wrong?" he asked, sounding self-conscious.

She smirked and lowered her head, flicking her tongue across the tip. She was rewarded with a strangled groan.

"Sh-Shepard…that might not be such a good idea…you might be allergic to dextro-"

"I'm not. But just in case there are epi-sticks by my clothes." She swirled her tongue around rounded head and he began to swear.

"Damnit, Shepard…"

He tasted less metallic here, muskier. Rocking back and forth on all fours, she took him into her throat and he hissed, his fingers tangling in her hair.

* * *

He'd had this done once before, and while pleasant, he'd never quite understood the fixation so many males (across many species) had with it. Until Shepard wrapped her pretty lips around him and sucked him into her throat, running her soft tongue along the shaft. The sight of her on her knees in front of him spurred something inside him and he groaned.

Her eyes were open, on his face, and he rocked back and forth, trying his damnedest to let her control the rhythm. The temptation was too much and he grabbed her hair, using it as a handhold.

She sputtered and then suddenly his hands were batted away and he was pushed onto his back. His member no longer enveloped by her mouth.

"Didn't I tell you I'd kick your ass if you pulled my hair?" Her voice sounded husky, and he purred at just how sexy Shepard was –even when she was threatening him, or maybe because of it.

"Mmm, I love it when you get all angry and dangerous," Garrus sat up.

She snorted and favored him with a wry grin. "You're about to see just how dangerous I can be."

She moved onto his lap, a look of determined concentration on her face. He sucked in a sharp breath as she lowered herself onto his achingly hard member. She winced and he balled his hands into fists, resisting the urge to drive into her with one hard stroke.

Inside she was so wet and soft. She gripped him tightly, and he never remembered anything feeling quite like this. Shepard was breathing hard, biting back little cries as she struggled to accommodate his girth.

"So…full," she whimpered, her eyes wide and her lips parted. "Garrus," she buried her face in his chest, clinging to him.

Having a woman on his lap like this was new, and being able to see every expression that crossed Shepard's face was incredibly arousing.

"Can I move?" he asked, nuzzling her hair.

"I…yes. Just…slowly. I need to…adjust."

Garrus pushed the rest of the way in, and she closed her eyes, slowly moving her hips with his.

"You're clenching around me," he purred. "Pulling me into you…" She was so inviting – her reactions sensual and fiery. With each inch, she tightened around him and he growled.

Slowly he began to pick up the pace. Shepard's breasts jiggled with every thrust and rolled her nipples between his fingers, pinching them with his knuckles.

"Faster," she breathed. He groaned. "Faster," she said again, louder.

He was delighted to comply.

* * *

He felt different inside her. The textured surface of his shaft rubbed against her insides, making her quiver and shake. He was thick and searing hot, and he stretched her inner walls, drawing involuntary moans from her throat. She bounced up and down on him, panting loudly as he began to speed up. She tried to rock her hips, but the sensations overwhelmed her and she gripped his shoulders, rubbing her cheek against his neck.

Suddenly she was on her back and he was over her, her legs again at the crook of his hips.

"You want it faster, Shepard?" Even if she hadn't been able to recognize the raw desire on his face, his voice gave him away.

"Yes," she hissed, trying to remember the last time she'd sounded so desperate.

"You want me to fuck you harder?" His manner of speech was sexy on its own, but the dirty words ratcheted up the effect.

"Yessss," she growled and Garrus slammed into her, rough and hard.

"Then I'll give it to you, and you won't be able to walk straight for week," he promised..

She clawed at his arms, his chest, whatever she could reach. Her blunt nails afforded her little grip and she shrieked as he filled her, deep strokes tearing through her. Her hips moved on their own. Pressure built in her core. Sweat dripped from her brow and Shepard keened as Garrus buried himself in her. She could see him going in to the hilt. The friction almost burned and the sensation of being stretched so full. He was so hot and thick inside her and she thrashed beneath him, the pressure climbing. Each thrust built it higher and wound her tighter…

His grunts were lower and his breathing harsher. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoed in the cargo hold. Garrus was growling, clutching her possessively as he rammed himself inside her. His hands dug into her hips and she squeezed her legs around his waist.

"So close," she whined, and his head jerked up. His mandibles splayed outward and he looked at her. "Going to-"

He growled and redoubled his efforts, pushing harder and she took it greedily, no longer caring about appearances. The crescendo built; tension winding tighter and tighter inside her till it burst – waves of white hot pleasure crashed down and she clutched Garrus's wrists. He tore his name from her lips and she shook underneath him, fists clenched, toes curling.

A throaty roar came from Garrus, incoherent in his own climax. Shepard trembled as liquid heat pooled inside and he pulled her into his arms, claws raking her sides. There was a sharp flash of pain as he buried his face in her hair. It was gone in seconds as he whispered her name hoarsely.

They both collapsed on the mats, boneless and spent.

* * *

Garrus tasted something foreign in his mouth. They'd been laying there for awhile now. He was still inside her and she wasn't complaining. She smelled human – like sweat, salt, and musk. He stroked her hair, now damp from exertion.

On the battered mats, entwined hopelessly in Shepard's limbs, he basked in a sense of contentment, satiation, and maybe peace. Shepard's breathing came slow and measured. Pressed up against him, she was soft and feminine. Her eyes were closed and she was smiling. The unguarded expression pleased him. He was Garrus. She was Shepard.

And then he saw the bloody bite mark on her shoulder.

"Shepard." He sat up quickly, trying to untangle himself. A flash of panic hit him. He shook her, not so gently, frantically looking for a packet of medigel.

"Muah?" Shepard groaned and sat up groggily. "What's your rush, you crazy turian? I was enjoying the afterglow."

"You're bleeding," he said in clipped tones, trying to beat down his panic. What if there was nerve damage? How did he manage to lose that much control? He knew better than to bite her. That was human blood in his mouth…

They both glanced down at her nude form. Her shoulder had taken the worst of it – skin punctured by sharp turian teeth. Angry red lines – claw marks- trailed up and down her sides.

"Feeling possessive, were we?" Shepard favored him with a lopsided grin and crawled over to her pile of clothes. He didn't have a human fetish, but there was definitely something compelling about the way her butt wiggled. She came back, medigel with medigel and handed it to him. "You can do the honors."

"I-Shepard-"

"That's an order, soldier," she smirked, sitting gingerly.

He carefully took the medigel from her hands and began applying it to her wounds.

"Seriously, isn't that normal with turians? That and beating the crap out of each other before sex?"

"You're not a turian," he said stiffly.

"Eh? I didn't even feel it when you-" she winced as he poked the ragged flesh. "OK, I feel it now, but don't you start beating yourself up over this. Next time…I'll just bite you harder."

His pulse quickened, both at the prospect of _next time_ and the image it conjured.

"OK," he said, her charm and careless poise assuaging his guilt.

They made it back to her quarters without much trouble. The crew wasn't around to point out the fact that Commander's jacket was buttoned wrong and Garrus was missing a glove. Shepard dropped into her bed and he turned to leave.

"You can stay, you know?"

Garrus cocked his head to the side, knowing this was more than just sex, but not exactly how much more. "Are you sure? The crew will talk."

"Let them. They need to know exactly whom you belong to," she muttered, patting a space beside her. "Chambers can go find her own turian."

"Are you-?"

"Garrus, seriously. Quit being a little girl. We're beyond all the awkward small talk and I'm tired. Do not make me drag you back here, because I will not be happy," Shepard grumbled.

She was adorably grumpy when she was tired, Garrus decided as he climbed in bed next to her, trying not to catch his leg spikes on her sheets.

"So you want me to stay?" he asked teasingly.

"Only till 0400," she murmured, already drifting off.

"What happens at 0400?" Garrus asked. The warmth of her body against his was intoxicating and he liked how she fit against him.

"You get to go clean up the mess hall with Thane."

* * *

_Epilogue:_

Everyone wanted something from Shepard. And what they wanted usually involved killing a whole lot of people who needed it. Fortunately, she was very good at that. Garrus listened, not unaffected as Zaeed explained his business on Zorya. Zorya was an OK place, if you ignored the mercs, the slavery, and the irritating pollen. The knowledge that Zaeed cofounded the Blue Suns didn't surprise Garrus as much as it should. Zaeed never struck him as any kind of saint. Maybe in another life, he might have drawn on the merc – Omega's Archangel would have - but there were greater things at stake.

He'd been aiming taking out snipers, hoping to avoid the pipelines, when Zaeed attacked. Shepard took cover and he followed close behind as Zaeed fired into the network of gas lines setting off a chain of explosions. He was still recovering his equilibrium when Shepard stalked out to shout down the merc.

"We're here to free these people. Why the hell would you blow up the refinery?"

And so Zaeed told her. Twenty years. Betrayal. Dead friends, Half his face blown to hell. When he spoke of revenge, Garrus intimately knew the light in his eyes and hunger in his voice. Despite the heat and flames, it made cold chills run down his spine. He didn't listen to Shepard's response. He already knew she wouldn't accept Zaeed's methods.

"I don't care what else happens," Zaeed argued and Garrus closed his eyes. "As long as Vido swallows a bullet." And that was honest truth

He followed, trying to keep the pace, his head spinning from déjà vu.

Shepard's face was concealed behind her helmet, but he knew her expression wasn't a happy one. They went in for the workers, of course, despite their companion's protests. When Vido managed to escape, as Zaeed had predicted, Garrus had his rifle out, trained on their own merc. But fireworks and Zaeed went together and after another explosion he lay pinned under the rubble, and Shepard stood over him, her gun pressed against his forehead.

Garrus stood down. This was Shepard's call and he followed her lead. He didn't know who would hate him more if he took a shot – Shepard or himself?

They talked. Shepard could talk the clouds from the sky. And unsurprisingly Zaeed accepted her hard bargain _and_ respected her for it. There would be time for revenge later.

The shuttle ride back to the Normandy was painfully quiet. Zaeed sat in one corner, Shepard in the other. He stared at the merc, unable to look away. He had been here before, with a different perspective.

Garrus found her in her room, staring at pile of data pads. She smiled at him, and put the work aside. He sat down across from her.

"Twenty years is a long time." It wasn't a good opening salvo, but he had long given up trying to be eloquent around Shepard.

"Yes." Her expression was guarded, like she wasn't sure what to expect. "For humans and turians anyway."

"Even longer for salarians," Garrus agreed, trying to get the gall up to address the issue. Even if they had been…_together_… Sidonis was one topic he and Shepard had skirted around.

Shepard raised those eyebrows at him. He really wondered what evolutionary purpose they served. Did they keep her eyes warm?

"I'd like to think it wouldn't take _me_ twenty years to hunt someone down."

She snorted and leaned over the low coffee table, her hands on his knees. "I was expecting you sooner." She'd been worried, he realized belatedly. She slipped onto the couch beside him, one hand resting on his plated cheek.

"I uh, I needed to think. About Sidonis," he cleared his throat. Her proximity affected him, especially since he knew, right on her shoulder, she wore his mark.

"I heard he's in C-Sec custody now. Shouldn't be too hard to reach him if you need to," Shepard said a little too casually.

They sat there in silence. It was a testament of her feelings for him if she was willing to let him kill a repentant man.

"I…about what happened on Zorya. That- that…"

_That could have been me. _

"I know." And she did, of course. She'd known all along.

"I think…I want to let this go, I do. But I let my men down, and I don't want to leave them unavenged." He hung his head. "But yeah, I see it now. I see what you meant. After twenty years I might have left those people to die too."

He recalled the sight of her in his scope.

"It might not have even taken that long."

She sat there, quiet in contemplation. "Hindsight is twenty-twenty. We both needed a change of perspective, Garrus. I…I try to do the right thing, but sometimes it's just lip service. In your case, I just wanted to make sure you weren't doing the wrong thing for the right reasons, or vice-versa."

"I don't know either… but I probably was."

"But that doesn't mean he deserves to live either." Shepard sighed, tapping his arm lightly.

"So what are you saying? Do you even know how obsessed I was? How easily I could have turned on you?" The questions came out, and he recalled the cold fury on Zaeed's face – even with the scars he was so expressive and his eyes…

"I could feel the bead of your sniper rifle on the back of my head, Garrus. It occurred to me that you might shoot me to get to him. It would have been nonlethal, of course. If you weren't too angry, you would have remembered to use concussive rounds." Shepard shrugged. "But I trust you. You're not Zaeed. You have my back."

"I was very angry," he said, guilt weighing on him.

"You didn't pull a gun on me."

"The gun was already out, Shepard."

"You're not Zaeed," she said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "And you still have time to make a decision."

"I can't promise I won't kill Sidonis if I see him again. But…I can let this go. I think I need to."

"All right," she said softly, stroking his mandibles.

"Besides," he leaned in, nuzzling her cheek. "I've found something else to obsess on." Her hands slid down his chest and around his waist.

"I know," Shepard said with a smirk.

"Do you?" Garrus murmured.

"Yup." She kissed his neck and leaned, her breathing shallow and just a little ragged.

"What would that be?" he murmured, stiffening under her touch.

"_Calibrations_."

He was _never_ going to live that one down.

* * *

A/N:

This monstrosity is done. Finished. Finito.

I'm not sure how I feel about the epilogue. I figured it was too short to warrant it's own chapter. Maybe I shouldn't have glossed over things so quickly, but repeating the entire Zorya mission seemed overkill. I've spent a couple days writing/rewriting/editing this chapter and am sick of looking at it.

_Issue: I don't like Shepard sorta losing to Garrus/ being slightly sub in bed._

I think I mentioned in the last chapter that Shepard didn't know any nonlethal techniques to take down a turian barehanded. Not canon or anything, I just made that up. I was looking over turian pictures from the art book trying to figure one out, but couldn't really. Alas, the perils of writing someone smarter than yourself.

Seriously though, taking down people and not leaving permanent damage is harder.

Smexing-wise…I wrote it how I wrote it. If you want a character defense, I think male!turian might be more dominant the first time around and Paragon!Shep is confident/understanding enough to let him.

I don't know what I'll work on next. I sorta want to do short crack pairings. I have an Illusive Man/Renegade!Shepard respect/hate fic in the works, but I think I should finish a renegade playthrough first. Maybe. Still have that Garrus/Thane/Shep one too. Don't know if I'll ever write the Saren/Shep/Nihlus hate!sex AU. That would be very NC17, disturbing, and violation of 's TOS. I'm in the mood for dark!fic.

I make no promises on how long it would take to write any of these. This one magically wrote itself in less than a week and I'm still in shock that I churned out over 20k and it isn't total fail. Or maybe it is. I don't know right now. But do let me know what interests you and/or crack pairings, and if I get sufficient inspiration, I might be able to write more.


End file.
